Tinystar's Beginning: The Darkest Hour
by Twilidramon
Summary: Tigerstar is dead, and Tinyclaw must step up as ThunderClan's leader. Bluestar still reigns in the forest, her plans unknown. Within the turmoil, a prophecy rises - "Four will become two / Lion and Tiger will meet in battle / and Fire will devour the forest." The time has come, and all the strife from before is leading to a battle that could change the forest forever... *COMPLETE*
1. Allegiances

**HELLO EVERYONE AND WELCOME TO _TINYSTAR'S BEGINNING: THE DARKEST HOUR!_**

 **If you've gotten this far and don't yet know, Tinystar's Beginning is a long-running AU that I decided to have a go at way back in 2014 - Tiny/Scourge and Rusty/Firestar have switched places! They, along with other swapped characters, go through the original series' story and experience different changes along the way!**

 **New readers are welcome to check out the rest of the series on my profile - the quality regrettably dips a bit in the middle, around _Rising Storm_ , due to irl things that were happening at the time, but if you want, it's all there to peruse at your leisure! New readers might not be utterly lost in this story, but there are some changes that might be confusing.**

 **I've taken the liberty with this entry to do a little prep for the next series, whether or not I actually make it that far - all the Clans in the first series are woefully small, so I've filled out the roster a little. You'd be surprised how even the Clans look when you add two or three cats to the non-ThunderClan ones, haha.**

 **NOTE: This series is LGBT+ friendly. Any harassment in reviews will be met with blocking. You've been warned.**

 **ANOTHER NOTE: I will attempt to keep up with my 2-chapter update a week schedule - however, I may lag a little here and there. Please forgive me if I do! My schedule is a little shaky right now and I'm figuring out what works for me.**

 **Without further ado, let's be on our way!**

* * *

 **ALLEGIANCES:** _ **(characters marked with a * are trans and are described with their preferred gender/pronouns)**_

* * *

 **THUNDERCLAN:**

Leader: Tinystar – very small black tom with one white paw (Sandstorm's mate) _(Mistypaw)_

Deputy: Whitestorm – big white tom

Medicine Cat: Brackenfur – golden brown tabby tom with an injured leg ( _Mosspaw)_

Warriors:

Oakheart – a reddish brown tom (father of Mosspaw, Mistypaw, and Stonepaw) _(Fernpaw)_

Frostfur – white-pelted she-cat with beautiful blue eyes (mother of Cinderpelt, Brackenfur, and Shredpelt)

Longtail – pale tabby tom with dark stripes *

Mousefur – small dusky brown she-cat

Dustpelt – dark brown tabby tom _(Ashpaw)_

Sandstorm – pale ginger she-cat with green eyes (Tinystar's mate) _(Stonepaw)_

Graystripe – thick-furred gray tom with a dark stripe down his spine (father of Stormpaw and Featherpaw of RiverClan)

Cinderpelt – fluffy gray she-cat _(Snowpaw)_

Cloudtail – long-furred ginger-and-white she-cat

Apprentices:

Mosspaw - gray-and-white she-cat; medicine cat apprentice

Ashpaw – gray tom with darker flecks

Fernpaw – pale gray she-cat with darker flecks

Snowpaw – deaf white tom with blue eyes

Mistypaw – long-furred dark blue-gray she-cat, blue eyes

Stonepaw – thick-furred pale blue-gray tom

Queens:

Willowpelt – very pale gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes (mother of Sorrelkit, Rainkit, and Sootkit, surrogate to Whitestorm and Tigerstar)

Elders:

Speckletail – pale tabby, eldest queen (mother of Lostface and Snowpaw)

Lostface - white-and-ginger she-cat

Shredpelt – stocky black-and-white tom, missing his tail

Smallear – gray tom with small ears, eldest ThunderClan tom

One-eye – pale gray she-cat, eldest cat in ThunderClan; virtually blind and deaf

Dappletail – once-pretty tortoiseshell she-cat with a lovely dappled coat

* * *

 **SHADOWCLAN:**

Leader: Bluestar – blue-gray she-cat with a silver muzzle; formerly of ThunderClan

Deputy: Russetfur – dark ginger she-cat _(Cedarpaw)_

Medicine Cat: Runningnose – small gray-and-white tom

Warriors:

Wetfoot – gray tabby tom

Oakfur – small, dark brown tom

Littlecloud - small tabby tom

Duskflower – black she-cat

Blackfoot – large white tom with huge black paws

Jaggedtooth – large tabby tom _(Rowanpaw)_

Brownfoot – mottled brown-and-ginger tabby tom *

Darkstripe – sleek black-and-gray tabby tom; formerly of ThunderClan

Apprentices:

Cedarpaw – gray tabby tom

Rowanpaw – dark ginger tabby *

Nightpaw – black she-cat

Queens:

Tallpoppy – long-legged light brown tabby she-cat

Elders:

Stumpytail – brown tabby tom with a short tail

Brightflower – black-and-white she-cat

Boulder – silver tabby tom

* * *

 **WINDCLAN:**

Leader: Tallstar – black and white tom with a very long tail

Deputy: Deadfoot – solid black tom with a twisted paw

Medicine Cat: Barkface – a short-tailed brown tom

Warriors:

Mudclaw – mottled dark brown tom

Tornear – tabby tom _(Smokepaw)_

Poppyfoot – tortoiseshell she-cat

Robinwing – light brown she-cat with blue eyes

Onewhisker – young, lithe brown tabby tom _(Gorsepaw)_

Runningbrook – light gray-and-brown tabby she-cat

Webfoot – dark gray tabby tom *

Tawnyfur – golden brown she-cat

Apprentices:

Gorsepaw – ginger-and-white tom

Smokepaw – lean pale gray-and-white tabby tom

Queens:

Ashfoot – a gray queen

Morningflower – tortoiseshell queen

Whitetail – small white she-cat

* * *

 **RIVERCLAN:**

Leader: Leopardstar – unusually spotted golden tabby she-cat

Deputy: Brambleclaw – big dark brown tabby tom _(Stormpaw)_

Medicine Cat: Mudfur – long-haired light brown tom

Warriors:

Ripplecloud – gray tabby tom with white paws

Brackenflight – golden brown tabby she-cat

Blackclaw – smoky black tom

Tawnypelt – tortoiseshell she-cat _(Featherpaw)_

Heronleap – lean smoky gray-black tom *

Loudbelly – a dark brown tom

Heavystep– stocky, thickset tabby tom _(Dawnpaw)_

Swallowfeather – pretty pale tabby she-cat

Leafwhisker – small brown tabby tom

Shadepelt – very dark gray she-cat

Apprentices:

Dawnpaw – very pale gray she-cat

Featherpaw – silvery gray tabby she-cat

Stormpaw – thick-furred dark gray tom

Queens:

Mosspelt – tortoiseshell she-cat

Silverstream – pretty slender silver tabby she-cat (mother of Featherpaw and Stormpaw)

Elders:

Graypool – a thin, very dark gray she-cat with a scarred pelt

* * *

 **BLOODCLAN:**

Leader: Scorch – scarred ginger tom with green eyes

Followers:

Bone – massive black-and-white tom

Brick – skinny dark ginger she-cat *

Orre – golden brown tabby tom

* * *

 **CATS OUTSIDE THE CLANS:**

Rusty – handsome ginger tom with green eyes, kittypet (Fiona's mate)

Fiona – lovely long-haired white she-cat with pretty blue eyes, kittypet (mother of Cloudpaw)

Smudge – plump black-and-white kittypet

Barley – black-and-white loner, lives on the farm close to the forest

Ravenpaw – skinny black tom with a white chest and tail-tip; formerly of ThunderClan


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

" _Get out of here, kittypet!"_

The small kitten bristled, backing up until his tail touched the fence behind him. His eyes widened at the cats before him – short, but thick and muscular with wide paws and sharp claws. Narrowed eyes glinted in the moonlight.

"I just want to -"

The kitten's voice broke off with a squeak as he dodged beneath a set of claws. A dark brown tabby drew himself up to his full height and curled his lip at the kittypet kitten.

"Kittypets don't belong in the forest," he spat. "So go back home, to your soft bed and your soft slop!"

The kitten crouched and trembled before them. Behind the brown tabby tom, his Clanmates hissed and jeered, spitting insults that roiled in the kitten's mind until he couldn't take it anymore. Turning tail, the kitten scrambled beneath the fence, flattening his ears against the cheers of the forest cats.

"Good riddance!" shouted one of them.

"Stupid kittypet," spat another. "Hope that's the last we see of that one!"

"Determined little mouse, I'll give him that," added a third, their voice growing quiet as the group of cats began to pad back into the marshy forest from whence they came. "If he weren't a kittypet…"

 _If I weren't a kittypet…_

The kitten drew himself up, taking a deep breath to still the heart beating in his ears.

 _I won't give up!_ He thought. Warmth flooded his pelt as he looked up at the stars, recalling stories of how the cats in the forest ran free beneath them, between bushes and trees with no Twolegs to pick them up. No one to own them. No one to rely on but one another and themselves. The kitten dug his claws into the earth.

 _The marsh cats don't want me,_ he thought, resolved, _but there are other groups in the forest._ His father's colorful stories filled his mind.

 _I_ will _be a Clan cat!_

* * *

"I want to join you!"

The Clan cats stared at him incredulously. The young tom could see anger brewing in the lean ginger tabby tom's eyes. The younger cat, her blue-gray fur still kit-soft, looked uninterested. The massive dark brown tabby tom was confused.

 _Why can't they see?_ The young tom thought. He dug his claws into the earth. "I can hunt and fight! I want to be a Clan cat! I'm just like you!"

This made the ginger tabby scoff. "Do you hear this nonsense, Tigerclaw? This kittypet is just like us?"

Tigerclaw, the large tabby tom, squared his shoulders. "I don't know – he seems to have spirit, Sunfall."

"Spirit!" Sunfall hissed. "It takes more than spirit to make a warrior cat! You need to be born with the wind in your whiskers and sunlight on your pelt. This kittypet doesn't know anything but food and warmth – he'd shrivel and die when leaf-bare came."

The young tom fluffed out his pelt. "You don't know anything about me!" he hissed back. Would they let him in if he challenged them? Was that what they wanted? "I was born a kittypet but my heart calls for the forest! I feel the wind in my fur, pulling at my whiskers. Not all kittypets dream of softness and food!"

He stepped forward, daring, trying to disguise his heart beating in his ears. "I am a warrior!"

"Blasphemy!" spat Sunfall. "You would never learn the warrior code – never truly feel it in your heart! Weakness is in your blood and your bones."

"Why do you get to decide that?" spat the tom.

Sunfall thrust his muzzle into the tom's face. "Because _I_ am a _warrior!_ And _you_ are _nothing!"_

"Sunfall, stop -"

"Bluepaw," Sunfall hissed, pacing back to the young she-cat. "Show him. Show him what makes a warrior! Teach this kittypet to respect his place in the world."

The young tom had little time to react – he didn't see the blue-gray she-cat bunch her haunches, and suddenly she was on top of him. Frantically, he tried to strike her – but the surprise attack had rendered him incapable of defending himself. He could only curl beneath her blows as they rained down upon his shoulders.

He yowled as searing pain raked over him.

"Sunfall, are you mad?!" snapped Tigerclaw. Suddenly, the weight was gone from the young tom's shoulders. Tigerclaw had thrust Bluepaw aside, and now placed his big, bulky body between the tom and his Clanmate. "He's barely an apprentice himself, and you sick Bluepaw on him like he's prey?"

"I am defending our border," Sunfall retorted. "Like a _warrior_ does. Do you see him cowering, Tigerclaw? This kittypet is no warrior. He never was, and never will be. The first border skirmish would send him to Twolegplace with his tail between his legs."

"That's no excuse to attack him!" Tigerclaw growled back. "These aren't the days of Oakstar, of attacking any cat that so much as sniffs at us! He did no harm."

"Feeling soft towards a kittypet, are you?" Sunfall sneered suddenly. His voice got low and dangerous. "Maybe you'd like to go back to Twolegplace with him, eh? Maybe go and see that father of yours -"

Tigerclaw let out a roar befitting his name. The massive tabby tom was twice Sunfall's size, his fur fluffed out to its ends, as he pushed the ginger tom away with his sheer size. Sunfall flinched – but the young kittypet tom could see satisfaction glinting in the warrior's eye as he hit his Clanmate's nerve.

"Come away, Bluepaw," Sunfall meowed casually. "Let's wash that kittypet blood off of your claws. You've given him a reminder of what lies in wait in the forest."

The blue-gray she-cat's eyes were cold as they met the young tom's. That gaze bore into him, so cold it was like snow on a burn. She said nothing, and yet that gaze was seared into the young tom's memory long after the warrior patrol had left him.

He curled up into a ball and cowered, fear making him tremble. Blood matted against his shoulder, stiffening the fur.

Not long after, the fear turned to anger.

Then the anger… the anger turned to hatred.

* * *

"They're here, Scorch."

Scorch balanced atop the dumpster, feeling the cold of the hard Twoleg material seep into his bones. He watched his visitors pad cautiously through his alley, feeling proud of the fear he instilled into the outsiders. The alley stank of rotting Twoleg food and too many cats, making their forest-smelling pelts seem like a breath of fresh air.

All it did for Scorch was make his shoulder ache.

His cats were tense, waiting for any signal from him to attack. In a moment, Scorch could have these forest cats' pelts at his paws. But he was patient, and he had a small modicum of honor – he always heard out cats' pleas. Whether or not he helped them was part of the risk they took in coming here in the first place.

A black tabby tom was leading the outsiders; his short body and round face a contrast to his companion – a mid-sized, slender blue-gray she-cat whose fur shone silver in the harsh Twoleg light. Her blue eyes were cold, and familiar.

The black tabby tom stopped before Scorch. "This is the one I told you about," he meowed.

"So you are Scorch," meowed the blue-gray she-cat. She stepped forward, her shoulders bearing a regal weight. Scorch could tell from that arrogance that she sought to reign over all she could see. "You are the leader of this… Clan."

"Yes," Scorch meowed back. _Do you remember me?_ He wondered, looking down upon her. _No, of course you don't. I am still beneath you in your eyes, even if I tower above you right now._ "I am Scorch. And you?"

"I am Bluestar," she said, in a voice that commanded respect, "the leader of ShadowClan."

Scorch's whiskers twitched. "Very well. Your lackey here -" the black tabby flinched at the words – "has told me of you and your intentions, Bluestar. Tell me, now; why should we aid you?"

Bluestar's eyes glittered. "Because I can offer you something beyond this alley in a Twolegplace," she declared.

"And what might that be?"

"The forest. All the prey you can eat, and safety from these Twolegs within the trees." Bluestar's whiskers twitched. "Your Clan will be powerful, and together we can rule the forest in peace."

Scorch couldn't help but smile.

"Very well, Bluestar… let us see what BloodClan can do for you."


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 _Morning mist hung over the forest_ , weighing on Tinyclaw's pelt.

Ahead of him padded Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw of RiverClan. Between them hung the limp, sodden body of Tigerstar, ThunderClan's leader and their father. His massive paws dragged in the dirt.

Tinyclaw held back a whimper of sorrow. Looking at Tigerstar brought back the day's events, filling his mouth with the taste of dog fur and river water. How dogs forced ThunderClan out of their own territory… and the frantic flight to be rid of them by the gorge. Only Tigerstar's sacrifice had saved ThunderClan – and Tinyclaw's own life. Regardless of Tigerstar's waning sanity, Tinyclaw knew he could never forget that.

He stopped himself from bristling. Bluestar, formerly ThunderClan's deputy and now ShadowClan's leader, and her lackey, Darkstripe, also formerly of ThunderClan, were responsible for the dog pack. They had been feeding them in secret at Snakerocks until finally they left a trail of fresh-kill – punctuated by poor Brindleface at the end – to entice the creatures into storming ThunderClan's camp and killing all that lived in it.

Tinyclaw was exhausted from the flight from the dogs and the plunge into the gorge, but he wanted nothing more than to sink his claws into Bluestar – to make her pay for her crimes against not just ThunderClan, but the forest itself. The death of Tigerstar would not stop her from her goal of eliminating ThunderClan – possibly all the Clans – for good.

He had seen for himself the lengths his former mentor would go – Redtail was first, killed so that Bluestar might become ThunderClan's deputy in his place. Ravenpaw, run off out of fear for his life under her eyes. Brackenfur, who was injured by a plot to kill Tigerstar. Thornpaw and Runningwind, killed to shrink ThunderClan's numbers. Now this – the dogs, and the deaths of Brindleface and Tigerstar himself. What would come next? What _could_ come next?

The fern rustled. Tinyclaw and his entourage came to a halt, Brambleclaw gently laying down his half of his father's body to unsheathe his claws. The forest was so quiet, but for that rustling, that no one was sure whether it was dog or cat.

Out from the bush came Graystripe, Tinyclaw's friend. Brambleclaw's shoulders fell and he picked up his father's haunches once more.

"The forest is quiet," Graystripe remarked, flicking his tail apologetically. His yellow gaze turned to Tinyclaw. "The way to the camp is clear – the gorse barrier looked fine."

"Good," Tinyclaw rasped. "Thank you."

They continued on, the path sloping upward as they made their way to the ravine that sheltered ThunderClan's camp. Below, Tinyclaw could see the shaggy gorse barrier and some of the camp – the Highrock, where generations of Clan leaders made their announcements, poking just above the leaf-bare thin undergrowth.

Everything looked peaceful compared to dawn – where cats had been stumbling over one another to escape before the dogs bore down on them. Tinyclaw could hear the cries of Willowpelt's kits as they floundered out of camp with the rest of the Clan. Frantic eyes, widened with fear – fur bristling to its ends as cats sought out their families and loved ones. Tinyclaw scraped his claws against the cold stones below him.

 _You're safe,_ he told himself. _We saved you._ He had, at the last minute, organized a plan to lure the dogs to the gorge – a relay of his fastest warriors, to steal their trail and take the dogs to their doom. It had worked, while the Clan cowered at the safety of Sunningrocks.

Tinyclaw picked his way down the ravine. His ears pricked at the sound of Graystripe following him – but Brambleclaw's gruff tone made the gray warrior stop.

"Let him go, Graystripe," the RiverClan deputy said. "He needs to do this himself."

Tinyclaw didn't look back, but he knew that Graystripe was reluctant to let him go. With all they had been through and seen as friends, it felt odd doing something like this without him – but Tinyclaw knew Brambleclaw was right.

This was for him to do.

Tinyclaw padded slowly through the gorse tunnel, feeling thorns pricking at his sides. He emerged into the clearing – so empty that his presence startled a bird that had been bathing in the dust near the entrance. Normally no woodland prey would dare come near the camp.

It was strange to see the camp so empty, so devoid of life. It felt like walking into a strange, alien territory – yet it was home all the same.

There was nothing here. No evidence of the dogs – just evidence of ThunderClan's hasty departure. Scraps of nest near the dens, fresh-kill dropped where it had been eaten. No dogs. No cats. Nothing.

He padded towards the medicine cat's den – a cluster of ferns near the back of the camp. If anything were hiding, it could hide there. His mouth open to breath in the scents, he pushed through the fern tunnel and into the alcove.

Only the stale scents of Brackenfur and his apprentice, Mosspaw, greeted him. Tinyclaw closed his jaws, satisfied. ThunderClan had a great medicine cat in Brackenfur – trained by Yellowfang, a former ShadowClan cat. Tinyclaw's heart panged to remember her, the old she-cat who had been like a mother to him. _Watch over me, Yellowfang. Watch over us all._

Tinyclaw turned about and left. He padded briskly through the ferns, through the clearing, through the gorse tunnel. He looked up the ravine, up at the RiverClan cats and Graystripe, who were waiting for him beside Tigerstar's body. Tawnypelt was grooming her father's fur, while Brambleclaw, kept watch with sharp amber eyes.

"Graystripe," Tinyclaw called. The gray warrior looked up from grooming his chest fur, at attention. "Go to Sunningrocks – tell ThunderClan the camp is safe, and that the dogs are gone. They can return."

"Of course," Graystripe replied, dipping his head. "What about…" He glanced sadly at Tigerstar's body.

Tinyclaw frowned. ThunderClan would not take Tigerstar's death well – he had led since many of them were kittens. They would be proud to know that, despite his decline, he had still given his life for his Clan.

"Tell them only that Tigerstar is dead," Tinyclaw ordered. "I want to tell them the whole story myself." ThunderClan had lost so much faith in Tigerstar these past moons; Tinyclaw felt obligated to see his Clan's reaction to their leader's bravery.

Graystripe nodded and took off, a gray streak in the forest. Tawnypelt's tail flicked in amusement as she watched him go.

"ThunderClan to his bones," she remarked. "No cat in RiverClan thought he could stay long."

Brambleclaw nodded in agreement.

Tinyclaw shifted his paws. Graystripe had sacrificed much when he'd fallen in love with Silverstream, a RiverClan queen, and had kits with her – he had even gone to live with RiverClan, wanting to be part of his family's life. Yet Graystripe's heart had always called to the forest, and while he longed to be with his family, at least he was where he belonged. The struggle had nearly torn Graystripe apart.

Tinyclaw, however, was glad to have his friend back.

"Come on," Tinyclaw offered to the RiverClan cats. "Let's… bring him in."

Brambleclaw nodded solemnly and took up his father's body. Tawnypelt grabbed Tigerstar's scruff and together, they hoisted their father down the ravine. Tinyclaw made sure they had a good hold on Tigerstar before leading them into camp.

Tinyclaw led the way to Tigerstar's den in the Highrock in silence, slipping beneath the dried lichen screen and directing the RiverClan cats to lay Tigerstar down in his nest. The den itself was a mess – a sign of Tigerstar's deteriorating psyche near the end, where he had little though to bathe or sleep properly. Tinyclaw hoped that his kits didn't pick up on their father's depression.

"You can stay for the burial," he offered, "if you like."

"We'd love to," Brambleclaw admitted. His voice filled the den with memories of Tigerstar – for Brambleclaw was his spitting image, down to his dark tabby coat and long claws. "We have duties in RiverClan."

"No cat in ThunderClan knows that Tigerstar is our father," Tawnypelt pointed out. "It would be hard to explain why we were mourning him."

Tinyclaw swallowed. "Only Graystripe and I know the truth, yes… It's likely that Whitestorm knows, too." Whitestorm, a respected warrior since Tinyclaw had come to the forest, and Tigerstar had become mates not long ago – even having surrogate kits through Willowpelt. "Bluestar knows now, too – she might do something harmful with that information."

"I bet she will," Brambleclaw growled. "But I aim to tell RiverClan before she can."

Tinyclaw's ears pricked in shock. All Clans had a bit of the other Clans' blood in them, but those relationships, and those kits, were taboo – it wasn't something discussed openly.

"Tigerstar was a noble cat," Brambleclaw went on, "there's no reason to be ashamed for having him for a father. There's no reason to hide it – and I don't trust Bluestar as far as I could throw her."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement. The two cats before him embodied Tigerstar's spirit – his determination and leadership. Tigerstar was gone, but his spirit would live on, through them, through any kits of theirs, and through the kits of he and Whitestorm's. _Tigerstar will never truly leave the Clans._

"May we… mourn?" Tawnypelt asked. Her green eyes glittered. "Privately. Before things become too hectic?"

"Of course," Tinyclaw meowed, dipping his head. "Take the time you'll need."

Tinyclaw turned and left them to say good-bye. As he padded into the weak sunlight, his ears picked up the sounds of cats tumbling down the ravine. ThunderClan was returning.

He stood in the shadow of the Highrock, watching his Clanmates stream into camp, gauging their reactions.

Speckletail, an elder, led the queens inside behind Graystripe. Her eyes were narrowed with caution, her tail flicking from side to side with hostility until she determined for herself that the camp was safe. Frostfur and Willowpelt immediately ran to the nursery, bundling Willowpelt's three kits between them – the kits themselves were confused at their Clanmates' wariness, probably thinking hiding at Sunningrocks was some sort of game.

Next came Cloudtail and her mates – Shredpelt and Lostface, two young cats wounded grievously by the dog pack. Cloudtail had her long, plumy white tail over Lostface's shoulders, easing the one-eyed she-cat into camp while Shredpelt stalked in, his shoulders squared and his eyes burning. His slight limp was clearly not going to stop him from defending his mates.

Tinyclaw kneaded his paws into the earth with uncertainty. Never had ThunderClan cats been so frightened of their own camp! It made his heart ache.

Amongst the cats streaming slowly into camp, though, there was one cat he needed to see – Sandstorm. He spotted her slender body, her pale ginger tabby pelt, as it wove through the throng. She had been one of the cats to run the dogs – Tinyclaw's heart swelled, knowing that his mate was safe.

The apprentices tumbled in behind her. Ashpaw and Fernpaw led the way, both looking exhausted from their part in running with the dogs. Their mother had been Brindleface, murdered by Bluestar to give the dogs a taste for cat blood – Tinyclaw had felt obligated to let them participate. Behind them came Snowpaw –Speckletail's deaf son – watching Stonepaw and Mistypaw as they signed to him in pawspeak.

Tinyclaw frowned at Mistypaw and Stonepaw. They were Bluestar's kits, born when she was still ThunderClan's deputy. Tinyclaw had spent so long unsure of how he should feel about the young cats – but he had long since resolved himself to their individuality. Their father, Oakheart, stalked in behind them and urged them along, as they were clogging up the entrance.

Thankfully, the ThunderClan cats' wariness seemed to melt away as more and more cats discovered that their home was safe. Cats began to fan out, a small group gathering up the scattered bedding and others rearranging the fresh-kill pile. There was an air of hope around them, despite the sorrow Tinyclaw could see in their eyes. Their home was safe… but their leader was dead, and things still seemed rather uncertain.

Tinyclaw spotted Sandstorm heading for him and met her in the middle of the clearing. He brushed his muzzle against hers breathlessly, not knowing how much he needed to let her scent wreath around him until just this moment. He could feel her heart beating as if she were still running with the dogs. He wanted to take her back to their nest in the warrior's den and groom her fur until she fell asleep.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Sandstorm murmured.

"I thought they'd catch you…" Tinyclaw breathed.

Sandstorm's tail flicked. "I'm the fastest cat in ThunderClan – nothing can catch me. Not when I've got my ancestors beside me… and not when I'm running for _you."_

Her words sent a shock of warmth through Tinyclaw. He purred, pressing his muzzle into her soft fur. Unbeknownst to most of the Clan, Sandstorm was half WindClan – the kit of the former deputy Redtail and his WindClan love. It gave her the ability to outspeed any ThunderClan cat. Never had he been more grateful for her WindClan blood.

They pulled back a mouselength, pressing their sides together and twining their tails. Together they watched the last of ThunderClan, the elders, pad into camp. Graystripe was herding them along, chatting excitedly.

"He said that Tigerstar was dead," Sandstorm murmured, sorrow in her voice. "Is that true?"

"Yes," Tinyclaw replied quietly. "His body is resting in his den right now. With… Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt." The Clan would have to know sooner or later.

Sandstorm stiffened. "What?!" she hissed. "What are RiverClan warriors doing here?!"

"I can explain it all later," Tinyclaw insisted, looking into her eyes and willing her temper to cool. "But Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt are as much Tigerstar's kits as the ones Willowpelt is nursing. Right now that doesn't matter – I need to make sure the Clan is okay."

Sandstorm's whiskers twitched, but her fur fell flat. There was a look of worry in her eye as she meowed, "Alright."

Slowly but surely, it seemed like the Clan was gathering around Tinyclaw naturally. The shock of their camp being intact was fading, and what had happened this morning was settling in. Tinyclaw got to his paws, running his tail along Sandstorm's chin to reassure her, and stood before them.

"Cats of ThunderClan! Gather to me!" he called.

His words captured the crowd's attention. Tinyclaw was no longer bewildered by that – once, not long ago, the pressure of being the one the Clan turned to while Tigerstar was inconsolable had weighed like a stone on his shoulders. Now it was simply part of him.

"The dogs have been routed," he announced. "ThunderClan is safe! I would like to thank StarClan for blessing our runners with speed – and I would like to thank each and every one of them for risking their lives to ensure ThunderClan's safety."

He looked to the apprentices. "Ashpaw, you and Fernpaw ran like warriors. Brindleface is no doubt proud of you both."

Ashpaw puffed out his chest at the praise. His sister, Fernpaw, nodded solemnly. Tinyclaw scanned the crowd, picking out each of the runners. "Mousefur, Dustpelt, Graystripe, Sandstorm, and Longtail – ThunderClan owes each of you their lives today. Thank you."

Mousefur raised her head as the Clan cheered, while Dustpelt waved his tail. Beside him, his mate Cinderpelt licked his ear proudly. Graystripe, who was joined by Sandstorm, gave Tinyclaw a look that made it certain this was where he wanted to be. Longtail had his tail curled around his paws, looking uncertain about the praise.

Tinyclaw turned to Cloudtail and her mates. "How are they?" he asked.

Cloudtail's tail puffed. "They were both very brave," she said proudly. Cloudtail gently licked the injured side of Lostface's face. "She kept watch from our tree the whole time, and he -"

"- I would fight the dogs a hundred times over to save them," Shredpelt finished. He stood squarely beside the two she-cats, his eyes fierce and full of love. Cloudtail purred, and Shredpelt licked her ear.

"Thank you, Cloudtail," Tinyclaw told his niece. It had been hard for her, wanting to join in the running to revenge herself against the dogs for harming her mates.

"Of course," Cloudtail responded, her sharp blue eyes softening. "I'd do anything to keep them safe."

Tinyclaw turned away from them, grateful that his niece, who once floundered in Clan life, had such loving mates to lean on. He spotted Brackenfur, the medicine cat, with his apprentice Mosspaw – Mistypaw and Stonepaw's sister. He needed their report.

"Everything is fine," Brackenfur offered as soon as Tinyclaw neared him. He sat down, sticking his injured leg out awkwardly. The old wound had never properly healed – it would have made warrior training tough for him, long ago, but StarClan had called Brackenfur to be a medicine cat, and he had emphatically answered. "No one panicked, even when the dogs were howling."

"Really?" Tinyclaw's ears pricked in surprise.

Brackenfur nodded. "We all had faith in you, Tinyclaw," he meowed, eyes sparkling. Beside him, Mosspaw bent her head to sniff Mousefur's paws. "Faith in you, and in StarClan."

Tinyclaw felt a prick of pride.

"Brackenfur!" Mosspaw mewed. "Mousefur's torn a claw!"

"Take her in for treatment, then," Brackenfur offered.

Mosspaw nodded, and ushered the brown she-cat towards the medicine cat den. The patchy she-cat's gait was confident, and Tinyclaw knew she was a good apprentice for Brackenfur.

Brackenfur waited until Mosspaw had gone out of earshot before confessing, "StarClan might have been with us… but no cat saw Tigerstar leave Sunningrocks. He vanished!"

Tinyclaw frowned. He searched the crowd for Whitestorm, Tigerstar's mate and the cat who had promised to keep an eye on him. The white warrior was with Oakheart, his tail dragging in the dust and his head low. Seeing his gaze, Oakheart nudged Whitestorm over to Tinyclaw.

"I'm sorry," the white warrior whispered, dropping to his haunches. Tinyclaw's heart broke for him. "It's my fault he's…"

"It's not your fault, old friend," Tinyclaw breathed. He pressed his muzzle into Whitestorm's thick white fur. "You couldn't have stopped him."

Whitestorm shuddered from ears to tail. "I _should_ have…"

"There was nothing any cat could do." Tinyclaw wrapped his short tail around Whitestorm's body as best as he could. "He said… before he died… He said that he loved you, and that he would be waiting for you in StarClan."

Whitestorm stiffened, and then relaxed with a sigh. "I see," he breathed. "Thank you, Tinyclaw. It's… good to know that he is finally at peace."

Tinyclaw nodded, pressing against him. Only the two of them really knew the struggle Tigerstar had in his last days. Only they had seen his horrible struggle.

"So… Tigerstar really is dead, then?"

Cinderpelt's voice pulled Tinyclaw out of his moment with Whitestorm. He stepped away from the white warrior, his tail up as he saw his Clanmates gathering more tightly around him. The question was in their eyes, in their flicking tails and shifting paws.

"Yes," Tinyclaw confirmed. "He is."

He saw a wave of grief stagger his Clanmates. A moan rose from the crowd, and a wail. Eyes widened and tails bristled in shock. Though Tigerstar had been shaken near the end, he had led with pride and strength.

Tinyclaw took a deep breath. "You all know what our runners were chosen for – to lead the dogs to the gorge. I was at the end of that trail… and so was Bluestar."

Hisses rose from the crowd.

"She attacked me, and set the dogs on me while I was recovering," Tinyclaw told them. "Just as I thought I could see my ancestors, Tigerstar appeared. He pulled the dogs away from me and led them over the gorge."

The Clan fell silent, a tremor of horror spreading through them.

Finally, Frostfur spoke up: "How did you get out?" she wondered.

"Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt of RiverClan dragged us both from the river. Tigerstar lost his last life on the bank," Tinyclaw answered. "He is with StarClan now."

The confirmation sent more wails of sorrow into the sky. Tinyclaw's heart ached for his Clanmates – this day was a dark one for ThunderClan. This wave of grief would not leave for some time. Tigerstar had been many of these cat' very foundations – he had been the meaning of ThunderClan.

"Tigerstar is watching over us," he offered them. "From StarClan. He will always be with us."

"We will prepare his body," Speckletail decided resolutely, her voice cracked with grief. The elder got to her paws. "Where is he? His den?"

Panic surged through Tinyclaw. Before he could rise to his paws the tabby elder was joined by Frostfur. The two queens headed straight for the den, purpose in their steps. _No!_ Tinyclaw thought. _Give them more time -!_

Tinyclaw could not stop them in time. Speckletail's fur bristled at the entrance of the leader's den, her teeth bared. Frostfur's claws were unsheathed, her eyes open incredulously. The damage from the fire and leaf-bare's chill made it very obvious who was in the den with Tigerstar's body.

Speckletail snarled, "What are _you_ doing here?!"


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _Tinyclaw forced his way between Speckletail_ and Frostfur. "Hold on!" he told them, his heart pounding in his ears. Speckletail's eyes were burning, and Frostfur's tail lashed. Behind Tinyclaw, Brambleclawn and Tawnypelt were stiff and bristling. "Calm down, Speckletail, it's al-"

"What is this!" Speckletail thrust her muzzle into Tinyclaw's face. "You _know_ about this blasphemy?!"

Frostfur arched her back. By now, Speckletail's screeching had caught the attention of the rest of the Clan – others were appearing near the entrance to the Highrock den, eyes wide at the sight of the RiverClan cats with their leader's body.

"They are _desecrating our leader's body,"_ Frostfur growled. "You had better have a good explanation for this!"

Tinyclaw opened his mouth to speak, but Brambleclaw's broad shoulder nudged him. Tinyclaw closed his jaws as the dark tabby tom and his tortoiseshell sister emerged from the den to stand by his side.

"We have a right to be here," Tawnypelt declared.

Speckletail's tail fluffed to impossible size. A ripple of shock passed through the ThunderClan cats. Some stared at the RiverClan cats incredulously, while hot-headed cats like Dustpelt and Mousefur unsheathed their claws.

"Do you now?" spat Dustpelt. He stepped forward. "You might have saved Tinyclaw, but you have no right to savage our leader's body!"

Tinyclaw swallowed. "They're right, Dustpelt." His Clanmates gasped. He glanced at Brambleclaw, who gave a nod. Tinyclaw took a deep breath. "They have a right to be here… because Tigerstar was their father."

The revelation of the long-kept secret put ThunderClan to silence. Everywhere Tinyclaw looked he could see his Clanmates with wide eyes and fur fluffed in shock. Tinyclaw's heart beat in his ears – this was not how he imagined revealing Tigerstar's secret.

"That's… that can't be true…" Speckletail's whisper broke the silence. She fell back onto her haunches, bristling with shock.

"It is," Tinyclaw told her. "I'll explain, I promise." He looked to Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt. "You ought to go."

The RiverClan cats brooked no argument – it was clear they weren't welcome. The ThunderClan crowd cleared a path for them, eyes narrowed and glaring suspiciously at them as they padded through the throng. Brambleclaw held his head high, his broad shoulders sweeping the way for his sister, whose tail was up almost in defiance.

No cat made a sound… until a kit blocked their path.

"Are you really our kin?" Sorrelkit asked, turning her patched face up at Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt. Rainkit and Sootkit, her brothers, broke away from Willowpelt despite her hiss of warning. The gray kits stumbled out of the crowd and flanked their sister on either side, both look up at the RiverClan cats.

Tawnypelt gave a bemused glance at the kit. "Yes, we are."

Sorrelkit's eyes widened. "Wow!" she breathed. "That's awesome!"

An uncomfortable murmur passed through ThunderClan. Tinyclaw suppressed a wince. The Clans never brought attention to their shared blood willingly – to them, it was shameful. These kittens had no idea of that yet.

"Will we see you again?" asked Sootkit.

"Likely… when you're apprentices," Brambleclaw offered hesitantly. "At a Gathering."

The three kits let out a trill of joy. "We'll see you then, big brother! Big sister!" purred Sorrelkit. She nudged her brothers excitedly. "We have big siblings!"

"Kits!" Willowpelt breathed. "Get back here!"

"Mama! Mama!" Rainkit called. The kits bundled back to Willowpelt. "We've got family in RiverClan, Mama!"

Willowpelt's ears flattened. "Y-Yes," she breathed, "you do. Now hush, and let them go home."

Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, amidst the horrified ThunderClan cats, exchanged an amused glance. They did not linger long – together they padded out of camp.

The Clan didn't move until the gorse tunnel had stopped swaying. Suddenly, Tinyclaw was surrounded by indignant, angry, horrified, and shocked cats – he took a step back at their clamoring, bumping into the Highrock.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Speckletail hissed. She had recovered, and now seemed to be the leader of this mob. "Tigerstar, with half-Clan kits?!"

"Tigerstar was a _traitor?!"_ Mousefur spat. "You really expect us to believe that?"

"What in StarClan's name is going on here!" Dappletail demanded, her voice rising shrilly.

Their judgmental eyes and bristling fur was penning Tinyclaw in. He trembled, his throat tightening. Before panic set in a soft pelt touched him – Sandstorm. Cloudtail flanked his other side, using her bulky white body to shield Tinyclaw from the crowd.

"Let him explain!" Cloudtail snapped. Her blue eyes bored into the croud. "And let him breathe!"

The warriors retreated. Tinyclaw straightened his back and took several deep breaths to calm himself – aided by Sandstorm's soothing tail along his spine. Cloudtail continued to rebuff any attempts at cats getting into her uncle's face, standing toe to toe with Mousefur and Dustpelt.

"It is true."

The shaky voice came before Tinyclaw could speak. The crowd shifted and parted, allowing Whitestorm room to pad through. The white warrior sat beside Tinyclaw, turning his tired pale eyes upon the crowd.

His words sent a ripple into the surrounding cats. Every cat in ThunderClan respected Whitestorm – trusted him, believed him. To hear him say such a thing… it took the air out of their lungs. Several cats sat down in disbelief.

"Whitestorm…" Tinyclaw murmured. The white warrior didn't have to tell the story!

"Long ago, when Tigerstar was a warrior, he and Goldenflower of RiverClan had a relationship," Whitestorm swept on. "He gave it up for the good of his Clan – he had no idea that Goldenflower was having kits. He had no idea of them until recently."

Frostfur's eyes widened. "He broke the warrior code!" she breathed, indignant. Her tone sharpened. "He was a traitor!"

"Not every cat is perfect," Willowpelt snapped. The pale she-cat pushed through the crowd. "Love is love – its not always within Clan borders."

Frostfur's neck fur bristled. " _You_ would say that!"

Willowpelt's eyes widened. Tinyclaw stood up and forced himself between the two she-cats. "Enough!" he snapped. This did not need to devolve into judgment upon Willowpelt. "That's enough. There has been enough fighting this day."

Frostfur's eyes burned – and, from looking at the crowd, it was clear that many cats were still upset. Tinyclaw lashed his tail.

"Show your former leader some respect," he snapped at them. "Will you really allow Tigerstar's memory to be tarnished because of this? Is this all you will think of him in the end?"

His Clanmates shuffled uncomfortably.

"Every Clan has evidence of love crossing boundaries," Tinyclaw went on. The words earned him vicious stares, particularly from the elders, but they needed to be said. "Tigerstar was a great leader – he should be remembered for his greatness, not shamed for something like falling in love. Tigerstar was one of the greatest warriors this forest has ever known! I will choose to remember him as such… and so should you."

He turned his ice-blue gaze upon his Clanmates. His words were sinking in. There was some grumbling – but all in all, it looked as if the situation was diffused. He was glad for that – there was no need to go on fighting about Tigerstar's children when there was much more to be done.

"So…" Mistypaw's voice carried through the crowd. The young she-cat was standing with her brother and sister. "Does that mean you're our leader now, Tinyclaw?"

Tinyclaw swallowed as the Clan began murmuring again. Would this incite another argument? He leaned against Sandstorm, grateful for her presence.

"The warrior code says so," Dappletail pointed out, though her gaze was still sharp on Tinyclaw. "The deputy becomes leader after their leader's passing."

Cloudtail chuckled to herself. "What, you're all finally going to acknowledge Tinyclaw leading us _now?_ He's been doing that for seasons!"

"Hush!" muttered Shredpelt. He nudged his loudmouthed mate.

"I think he'll be a great leader," Longtail offered. He glanced at Dustpelt.

The brown tabby nodded in agreement. "Yeah. He's not the same tiny kittypet anymore." His voice was gruff, but there was genuine admiration in it. Beside him, Cinderpelt purred.

Tinyclaw sucked in a breath. Did they all really think that highly of him, after everything?

"You'll be an amazing leader," Sandstorm decided with a purr.

Whitestorm's eyes were sad, but soft. "He will indeed."

Tinyclaw shifted on his paws. Leadership had stopped being a place he'd had to force himself into. Now it was simply where he resided.

And it felt good.

As he gazed out at his Clanmates, all looking to him expectantly, Tinyclaw couldn't help but wonder: What would things be like if Bluestar had taken over ThunderClan as she'd planned? How many of those faces would still be out there? Would Tinyclaw be her deputy? Would Darkstripe?

He swallowed the thoughts. Now wasn't the time for what ifs.

"We need to begin the mourning rituals," he decided, his voice clear and strong.

"What about ShadowClan?" Cloudtail wondered. "They set the dogs on us! We ought to attack – give them a piece of our minds!"

"Definitely," Dustpelt agreed. Mousefur nodded, too.

"Hush!" huffed Cinderpelt. She cuffed Dustpelt around the ear before Tinyclaw could give any orders. "We have no idea of whether or not ShadowClan was involved. There's no reason to attack them!"

Tinyclaw couldn't help but purr at how Dustpelt relinquished himself to Cinderpelt's words. The brown tabby shrugged and sighed, but affection for his mate shone in his eyes. Tinyclaw could see that affection mirrored in Cinderpelt. _The nursery will likely have new kits soon!_

"Cinderpelt is right," Tinyclaw meowed. "We have no evidence that ShadowClan warriors were involved. We only know Bluestar and Darkstripe were involved for sure."

Many cats relaxed at the news. Most noticeable were Mistypaw, Stonepaw, and Mosspaw – Bluestar's kits. Of course they would be worried for their mother, even if she was manipulative and evil. Stonepaw's eyes glittered with unease, and Tinyclaw noted to himself to try and make him more comfortable here – he'd already reported his Clanmates taking out their anger on them.

"I want patrols," Tinyclaw went on. "Cinderpelt, you lead one… and Oakheart, you lead the other. We need fresh-kill… and someone to check on whether or not those dogs decided to come back."

"If they did, we know what to do," Cinderpelt meowed, flicking her tail.

Tinyclaw nodded. The sun was arcing over their heads, lowering into the treeline. He raised his tail. "Sandstorm, Graystripe – bring out Tigerstar's body. We must send him our regards."

Soon enough the Clan was moving again – Sandstorm and Graystripe arranged Tigerstar's body in front of the Highrock, his tabby pelt smoothed and draped in the stone's shadow. Brackenfur and Mosspaw rubbed herbs on his pelt as the Clan gathered around him.

"StarClan, take Tigerstar's spirit up into your heavenly hunting grounds," Brackenfur recited. The Clan listened in awe and reverence, heads bowed and tails still. "May he be remembered for his many great deeds as ThunderClan's leader – for standing strong during long leaf-bares, for bringing WindClan home, for fighting Brokentail and his menace, and showing mercy where it need be shone. For opposing Bluestar and her darkness. For being a pillar for ThunderClan for many long moons. May he have good hunting, swift running, and shelter where he sleeps."

First the patrols, led by Cinderpelt and Oakheart, came to pay their respects. When they were gone, their good-byes said, the rest of the Clan crept forward to rest beside him. Tinyclaw did not join them – he watched, listening to their quiet, final words to their leader.

"I was so fortunate to have you," said Whitestorm. "I love you."

"You did what you thought was right," murmured Dappletail. "You saved ThunderClan from a terrible fate, I think."

"You were not your father," Speckletail said. She settled near the others. "And your mother would be proud of you."

"Is… is Tiger-Papa really dead, Mama?" Sorrelkit asked.

"Yes," Willowpelt breathed. She curled her kits before her. "He is, little ones."

"That's why White-Papa is so sad!" Rainkit realized.

"Yes," Willowpelt repeated, her tone weary and patient. "Let's leave him be, little ones. Sit with me here."

Tinyclaw's heart ached.

It wasn't until the last cats were done speaking that Tinyclaw got to his paws. He pressed his fur into the thick ruff of Tigerstar's neck and breathed in the last remnants of his scent, scattered by water and herbs.

"You brought me to ThunderClan," Tinyclaw murmured, "gave me my name, and let me know what Clan life was about. That is a gift I can never repay. ThunderClan is in my paws now… and I will care for them until my dying breath. Just as you did."

He settled down near Whitestorm. The white warrior leaned into him, shivering from the chill and his own sorrow. Tinyclaw pressed his muzzle against Tigerstar's body, closing his eyes as silence descended upon ThunderClan.

 _Help me keep your Clan safe,_ he thought. _Please._


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

" _Tinyclaw, wake up."_

Tinyclaw had to force his eyes to open. As soon as he took in the dawn light, he shot to his paws, energy filling his limbs. Brackenfur took a step back from him, his tail flicking with amusement.

"I fell asleep!" Tinyclaw admonished himself, falling to his haunches. Guilt pricked his fur as he looked sidelong at his friend. "Was that… bad?"

Brackenfur blinked patiently. "I think StarClan understands, Tinyclaw," he meowed.

Tinyclaw sighed, looking down at Tigerstar's body. He'd tried his best to stay awake the entire night, but the race with the dogs and fighting for his life in the river had dragged him into sleep. At least the rest had been dreamless. The last thing Tinyclaw wanted was for more ominous news from his warrior ancestors.

"Whitestorm?" Tinyclaw inquired. The white warrior wasn't beside him.

Brackenfur meowed, "He's eating. Oakheart is looking after him."

Tinyclaw looked around the clearing. Whitestorm was indeed with Oakheart, the two of them sharing a rabbit. Around them warriors were awake and gathering up for their duties, which Tinyclaw realized he hadn't laid out yet. _StarClan understands that, too, I'm sure,_ he thought.

"I'll get the elders," Brackenfur decided. "It's time."

Tinyclaw nodded.

It didn't take long, even with Brackenfur's limp. The elders bore Tigerstar's peaceful body out of camp for the last time, their procession padding through their Clanmates. Some cats bent their heads, some sent off one last good bye. Tinyclaw felt like choking on his grief as Tigerstar disappeared through the gorse tunnel: He would never come back.

 _The Clan needs to move on,_ he told himself. _As soon as we can. That's what Tigerstar would want._

He felt Sandstorm press against him. Her whiskers flicked against his, inviting him to speak. She could always get him to speak, even when Tinyclaw felt like his words were a mouse caught in his throat.

"I'll miss him," he said, "for all the moons to come. He opened his home, his world, to me – he changed my life forever. Because of him I'm no longer a kittypet."

Sandstorm nodded. "You're a warrior," she breathed. "The bravest I know. We all thought that Tigerstar made a mistake, bringing a kittypet kitten into the Clan – but we know now just how strong you are, Tinyclaw."

Tinyclaw leaned into her and purred.

"Are you ready?"

Brackenfur's brisk voice caught him off guard.

"Ready?" Tinyclaw asked, puzzled. "For what?"

Brackenfur flicked his tail. "We need to begin our journey to the Moonstone, Tinyclaw – we don't want to miss the moonlight."

Tinyclaw swallowed past the lump in his throat. Anxiety tickled his paws. "So soon?"

Brackenfur nodded. "You are leader now, by the will of the warrior code," he reminded Tinyclaw. "We have to go."

Tinyclaw took a deep breath, glancing at Sandstorm. His pale ginger mate's eyes were sparkling with pride and love. He pressed his muzzle into her fur and took a deep breath of her scent, wanting to lose himself in it. He felt slightly dizzy at the thought – the last time he had gone to Mothermouth he had discovered his fear of small spaces.

 _StarClan needs this of me,_ he thought. All he had seen that night - just an apprentice, with Tigerstar - had been the glittering light of the stone. Now he was going as a deputy hoping to become leader. What did cats that went to the Moonstone to dream experience?

"I'm nervous," he admitted, pulling away from Sandstorm.

"I know," Brackenfur agreed. "I am, too. I've never done this, either."

Tinyclaw flicked his tail at Brackenfur. "You've been to the Moonstone countless times!"

Brackenfur's ear flicked. "Yes, well. Not for _this._ This is different. Yellowfang never told me what to expect, just what to say."

"It will go well," Sandstorm assured them both. "Now go – you're losing time."

Tinyclaw nodded. He sent a silent prayer of thanks for Sandstorm and her strength and signaled to Brackenfur with his tail. He didn't feel like he wasn't ready for this step – his nerves were for the Moonstone meeting. What if StarClan denied him because he was a kittypet?

"This is happening so fast," Tinyclaw breathed.

"StarClan is with you, Tinyclaw," Brackenfur assured. "Let's go."

The golden brown tom led the way through the camp. Tinyclaw followed at his friend's pace, some part of him not wanting to leave camp just yet. His eyes flickered over each cat in the camp – when he came back he'd be their leader, not just another Clanmate. He swallowed.

"Oakheart, Whitestorm," he called. The two warriors lifted their heads. Whitestorm's eyes were ringed with grief, but they shone strong. "Take care of things while I'm gone."

"StarClan be with you!" Oakheart called, dipping his head to him.

Whitestorm copied his friend. "ThunderClan will be safe when you return," he said solemnly.

Tinyclaw took a deep breath, warmed by the support of the senior warriors. _My senior warriors,_ he thought awkwardly. He knew that this was the last time he would see his Clan from a warrior's eyes. Everything here, every blade of grass, every cat that slept in the dens, would be his to protect.

He headed for Brackenfur, who was by the camp entrance now. The medicine cat was delivering instructions to Mosspaw, talking of medications that needed administering while he was gone. Mosspaw seemed eager to please in her first truly solo tasks, her tail and head high.

"You heading off without saying good-bye?"

Tinyclaw paused, catching Graystripe's eye. There was a good-humored glimmer there as the big gray warrior approached. Sandstorm shadowed him. Graystripe butted his head against Tinyclaw's shoulder.

"I'm coming back," Tinyclaw reminded him. _I won't be the same when I do,_ he added to himself. The look in Graystripe's eye showed that he knew that, too. Even Sandstorm seemed hesitant.

"I love you," she said. "You're going to be a great leader."

Tinyclaw swallowed.

"Come on, Tinyclaw," Brackenfur called. "We need to get moving!"

* * *

Tinyclaw took a deep breath of the moorland air, clean and clear and smelling of heather. The grass rocked and swayed, brushing dew against his pelt. He and Brackenfur were making good time, but his paws tickled with anxiety as they padded through the long grasses.

"Would WindClan try to stop us?" he wondered.

Tensions between ThunderClan and WindClan had been high recently – what with nearly having a battle over nothing. WindClan had been markedly more hostile beyond that, recently – they'd barred Tigerstar from heading to the Moonstone once before. Tinyclaw felt like he had less friends in WindClan than he hoped.

"WindClan wouldn't dare," Brackenfur assured, leading the way confidently. "They've been foolish, yes, but they've never dared to stop a medicine cat from doing their duty."

Tinyclaw frowned. Brackenfur was confident, but he still wasn't sure – and he grew even more worried as shapes flitted against the horizon. A WindClan patrol.

He and Brackenfur halted as the WindClan warriors streamed down the slope to meet them. Tinyclaw recognized Mudclaw and Tornear – two cats that Tinyclaw didn't get along with well. Anxiety crackled under his fur as he saw them sweep suspicious gazes over the two cats.

"What are you doing here?" growled Mudclaw, ever the aggressor. He thrust his dark muzzle into Tinyclaw's face. "Trespassing?"

"Be still, Mudclaw," Tornear meowed solemnly. "Look – he's with Brackenfur. You know what that must mean."

Mudclaw hesitated, whiskers twitching. Then he stepped back, his tail lowering. "Oh," he muttered.

"Tigerstar is dead, then?" Tornear guessed.

"He is," Tinyclaw meowed, his voice tight. "I am on my way to Moonstone."

Mudclaw and Tornear gave one another a glance, and then they both dipped their heads. Tinyclaw's shoulders twitched uncomfortably.

"My apologies," Mudclaw meowed. "Tigerstar will be well missed."

Tornear's gaze scrutinized Tinyclaw. "You are young and strong for your size and heritage," he meowed. "You will make a good leader for ThunderClan."

Tinyclaw coughed. Was every cat going to look at him like this? Judge his worth? His tail trembled, thankfully hidden in the long grass.

"We'd like you to pass on the news to Tallstar," Brackenfur meowed, "but we must be on our way."

"We will," Mudclaw agreed.

The two warriors stepped aside. Brackenfur raised his tail and limped on, setting the pace. Tinyclaw followed, nodding a farewell to the warriors before setting his sights towards Mothermouth.

Tinyclaw swallowed. "Do they all treat you that way?" he wondered. "Like you're wise and special and know everything?"

Brackenfur chuckled. "You know me, Tinyclaw – I'm not all-powerful. But yeah, they kind of tend to. If we weren't so close, wouldn't you be in awe of a cat that speaks to your dead ancestors and interprets signs and prophecies?"

"I suppose," Tinyclaw agreed. He nudged Brackenfur playfully. "It's a good thing I know you, then. Otherwise I might be too scared to speak right now."

Brackenfur purred. "A medicine cat and their leader have a special bond," he meowed. "We both share the pressures of leadership, even if they're different kinds of leadership."

"And what if I'm suffocated by the expectations?"

"Tinyclaw, you've been taking command of the Clan for moons now," Brackenfur pointed out. "All that's changing now is that you're going to be recognized by StarClan as ThunderClan's true leader."

Tinyclaw frowned. "I never wanted to take Tigerstar's place," he reminded the medicine cat. "I was just trying to pick up the pieces before ThunderClan fell apart. The Clan needed someone it could look to and I… I had to be it. Whether I wanted to or not."

"I know," Brackenfur meowed solemnly. "That sort of power shift could cause an ambitious cat to do terrible things, you know. I was worried for you. But in the end, you were what ThunderClan needed – what it needs now. No leader does everything perfectly, but you'll have me, and the wisdom of StarClan, to help you through it."

Tinyclaw breathed a sigh. "When did you get so wise?"

Brackenfur's eyes sparkled. "StarClan in some way helps, I'm sure – but you know most of that stuff is taken right from the tail end, right?"

Tinyclaw huffed, laughing. "You get that from Yellowfang?"

"Who else?"

Their journey was uninterrupted but by one final obstacle – the Thunderpath. The river of gray stone cut through the entire forest, and Twolegs rode their deadly monsters along it. Tinyclaw frowned at the Thunderpath, glancing at Brackenfur. He had been injured on the Thunderpath as an apprentice, and he no doubt feared it more than others.

"I've done this many times," Brackenfur insisted. "It's no big deal."

"Alright," Tinyclaw meowed. "On your mark, then."

A monster rumbled past, sending a wave of stinking air rippling over the moor. After that, the path fell silent.

"Now!" Brackenfur called.

Tinyclaw couldn't help but feel agitated as they slowly meandered over the Thunderpath. At Brackenfur's limping pace, it felt like an eternity before they reached the other side. Thankfully, the path was quiet on both sides, and they made it across and into the hedgerow on the other side with no issue.

Brackenfur flopped down onto his side, panting. Tinyclaw took it as a sign to rest – he sat down beside the medicine cat and quietly groomed his golden-brown fur.

"Almost there," Brackenfur meowed.

Tinyclaw nodded.

"Nervous?"

"Very."

Brackenfur looked up at the sky. The sun was beginning to descend. His tail flicked. "We've got more ground to cover," he meowed. "Let's hurry on."

* * *

Sunset painted the land in reds and oranges. Highstones touched the stars before them – craggy rocks haphazardly placed upon a large hill. Below them, the land sloped downward towards the dark hole Mothermouth. Inside was the Moonstone.

The last time Tinyclaw had been here he'd been an apprentice, newly introduced to the Clan and their ways. Every apprentice made a journey to the sacred site before becoming a warrior, though the tradition fell in ThunderClan when Tigerstar's mental health declined.

Tinyclaw and Brackenfur crossed the scrubby grasses. Pebbles scattered under their paws. Tinyclaw had no idea how this place had come to be – here and there was evidence of strange touches on the land: unnatural angles on the stones or strange lengths of wood near Mothermouth. Details he didn't see as an apprentice.

"Let's rest here," Brackenfur decided.

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement, and Brackenfur led the way down the slope to a flat rock near the entrance. He pulled himself onto it and flopped onto his side, stretching before tucking his paws beneath his belly. Tinyclaw sat with him, staring down into the opening of Mothermouth, trying to swallow his anxieties.

They waited in silence. It didn't feel right to speak anymore – the weight of mystery stopped Tinyclaw's words in his throat. It wasn't until the moon was risen and the sky was dark that Brackenfur got to his paws.

"It's time," he decided. "Come."

Tinyclaw got to his paws, but the dark maw of the cave made it impossible to take that first step. His heart fluttered in his ears.

"Brackenfur…" he breathed, words tumbling from his mouth: "I… I'm sorry. I've never liked small spaces."

Brackenfur's eyes were sympathetic. "I will be with you," he promised. "I have walked this path numerous times, Tinyclaw. Thank you for telling me."

"A bit late, though, huh?"

"A little," Brackenfur purred gently.

The golden-brown tom, his fur shining silver in the moonlight, raised his tail and then rested it on Tinyclaw's shoulder.

"I don't know what to do," Tinyclaw meowed.

"It's all right," Brackenfur assured. "There's nothing simpler. Now, you can grab my tail if you have to. I'll be right in front of you."

Tinyclaw swallowed, trying to press down his worries. Brackenfur led the way, his tail out. Tinyclaw kept his nose to his tail-tip, trying not to wince as Brackenfur led the way into the cold darkness.

 _Focus,_ he told himself. _Please, focus!_

The track wound down, down – Tinyclaw kept his focus on Brackenfur's scent, the sound of his paws against the stone and the brush of his fur. Tinyclaw's whiskers touched the walls several times, but he forced himself to stop thinking about the cave's walls closing in on him and focus on Brackenfur. Brackenfur was fine, sure-footed, and just ahead. Focus on Brackenfur.

It helped.

A gentle light suddenly began to filter through the cave ahead, and Tinyclaw knew where they were – the cavern of the Moonstone, where a great crystalline stone rose from the earth. A hole in the ceiling of stone let through the moonlight. The stone was not dazzling yet, but the line of moonlight told it would soon.

They stopped before the stone. Tinyclaw took a deep breath of the clear air, relieved at the open cavern. Brackenfur sat before the stone and flicked his tail at it.

"When it glows with moonlight," he instructed, "lay down beside the stone and touch your nose to it. Let StarClan sweep your dreams away."

Tinyclaw nodded, and sat himself before the stone. His paws trembled, but his heart was still. The only worry that coursed through his mind was that StarClan might not accept him – after all, he was not Clanborn. But there was no time to voice it aloud, and it did not feel appropriate – he would learn soon enough whether StarClan thought him fit.

Suddenly the moonlight shifted, and the stone lit up with the light of a thousand stars. Tinyclaw squinted at the stone, wincing at the sudden blinding flash. It took moments for his eyes to adjust, and he blinked away spots.

"StarClan!" Brackenfur called. His voice echoed through the chambers of Mothermouth. "I have brought before you Tinyclaw, deputy of ThunderClan. Receive him, grant him nine lives, and ascend him as leader of ThunderClan – if that is his destiny, and is thus your will."

Brackenfur nodded to Tinyclaw.

Tinyclaw crouched down before the stone, took a deep breath, and touched his nose to the cold surface, closing his eyes.

All went black.


	6. Chapter 4

**Hey all - quick announcement!**

 **Due to (very) possibly being out of town for holidays next week, I won't be updating then! Happy Thanksgiving, however you celebrate it (and if you don't, then I hope you all have a good weekend anyway)!**

 **-Twilight**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 _Tinyclaw fidgeted._

He wasn't sure when he ought to open his eyes, but they were aching from staying closed. He didn't feel as if he'd fallen asleep – perhaps StarClan had denied him? The fear of that possibility rippled along his spine. If he couldn't sleep before, the anxiety would keep him from it now.

Resignedly, he opened his eyes. "Brackenfur, I don't think I -"

It was not darkness that greeted him, but _light._

His voice echoed off into the world before him. A lush, grassy plain, the likes of which he had never seen in the forest before, stretched out beneath his paws, ringed by trees with leaves turned silver by starlight and moonlight and oh, the moon! It sat, full and large, in the sky, bigger than Tinyclaw had ever seen! His eyes stretched to take in the details of the stars, so close he felt he could touch them.

Tinyclaw blinked, expecting the dream to fade – but it did not. His anxieties melted in the warm, newleaf breeze that touched his pelt. The smell of frost and fire and starlight was in his nose, tingling and warm.

Finally he felt he could speak. "This is… StarClan?" he asked, breathing gently into the empty air. He knew then that this was the dream that Brackenfur had promised.

Before he could look for the medicine cat, Tinyclaw caught movement in his eye. The stars were shivering, swirling, moving – they descended like a waterfall from the sky, pooling on the ground around Tinyclaw. Slowly but surely, Tinyclaw could see that the stars were taking shape.

His eyes widened. The stars were in the shape of _cats_ – and cats he knew, no less, and ones he didn't. But seeing them filled his heart with reassurance regardless, steadying his paws to face what was ahead.

A voice spoke – no, many voices, yet one – "Welcome, Tinyclaw of ThunderClan," they called. Tinyclaw peered at the starry cats, but no mouths moved. Yet the voice rose like wave of water: "We of StarClan have judged you worthy. Receive your nine lives, and fulfill your destiny."

The words made Tinyclaw's tail tremble. He was _worthy._ And destiny? Had he always been worthy?

The ring of cats stirred, starlight shifting in the wind like wildflowers. A cat approached, and Tinyclaw's eyes widened.

"Lionheart," he breathed.

The golden-brown tom, his shoulders powerful and his head held high, approached. His yellow eyes shone like some stone, glinting in the light. Tinyclaw swallowed. Lionheart had been ThunderClan's deputy briefly, after Redtail's tragic murder. He died bravely against a ShadowClan invasion when Tinyclaw had been an apprentice – but this warrior had guided Tinyclaw's pawsteps into the forest, had brought him to ThunderClan alongside Whitestorm.

"With this life, I give you courage," Lionheart meowed, his voice strong and young. He bent down to touch his nose to Tinyclaw's. He smelled of stardust and ThunderClan. "Use it to defend your Clan."

At the contact Tinyclaw froze as pain rocketed through his body. He fought the urge to cry out as fire raged through his body, lighting searing his bones. He dug his claws into the earth, feeling claws scraping against his pelt but no – he had to continue on. He had to _fight-!_

And then it was done.

Tinyclaw sagged, the pain ebbing. So that was courage! But would all the lives feel so painful? He raised his eyes to meet Lionheart's. Before he could speak, the golden warrior had stepped away.

Another took his place, delicate and small. It took Tinyclaw a moment to recognize the dappled pelt and the neat, well-shaped head. Spottedleaf – ThunderClan's medicine cat before Yellowfang, who served and died just as Tinyclaw had come to the forest. Tinyclaw regretted not knowing her long, for she seemed gentle and kind.

She touched her small nose to his. "With this life, I give you understanding," she meowed, her sweet scent filling his mind. "Use it to soothe your Clanmates."

Tinyclaw's spine unbent as a gentle wave caressed his heart. He put himself between two bickering Clanmates, their anger searing and red, and calmed it with patience and gentle words. Wounded warriors begged for encouragement, and Tinyclaw gave it. And then the life faded – Spottedleaf stepped away, and turned sharply before Tinyclaw could thank her, too.

A lean warrior came in her place – Runningwind. Tinyclaw took in his youth and exuberance, his tail held high and eyes shining with humor. Tinyclaw felt regret in his heart – had Bluestar not murdered him, Tinyclaw knew that he and Runningwind could have been very close.

"With this life I give you tireless energy," Runningwind meowed, touching his nose to Tinyclaw's. "Use it when you can do no more."

Wind gushed past Tinyclaw's body. He closed his eyes and let his legs take him, feeling the brush of grass against his pelt as he moved, quick as a snake, through the world. He crossed forest and moorland and beyond in a heartbeat – and when he opened his eyes he felt only the tingling of his paws, with no ache to be known.

Runningwind was gone, and another cat appeared. Tinyclaw felt drained, like a puddle half full. What could be next?

Now it was Thornpaw who came, young and strong, his fur sparkling with stars. He touched his nose to Tinyclaw's as the older warrior lamented the youngster's death. He had died beside Runningwind, killed by Bluestar, too, before he could receive the warrior name he deserved. Shredpelt, Brackenfur, and Cinderpelt still missed their brother dearly.

"With this life I give you mentoring," Thornpaw meowed. "Use it well to teach your Clan."

Tinyclaw was unsure what this would feel like – he braced himself, and yet he felt no pain, only pride. He looked down upon his Clanmates, practicing their skills, honed to claw-sharpness. He knew that his guidance had brought them this far, and he would do it all again and again and be glad. Tinyclaw took a deep breath of the life, and it was over.

 _I am a leader,_ he realized as Thornpaw padded away. _I must guide them with every breath._

Now it was Brindleface who approached. Tinyclaw's heart ached for her – the queen who had nursed Cloudtail without regret, who had died to give the dogs a taste for cat blood. Killed far too young, like many of Bluestar's victims. Her eyes sparkled at Tinyclaw as their noses touched.

"With this life I give you motherhood," Brindleface announced. "Use it to care for your Clan's young, like any mother would."

Tinyclaw expected moss-softness, the smell of warm milk and the nursery but no – this life was unexpectedly fierce. The strength of a lion burned in his body as he stood over two tiny bundles of fur, his claws raised to defend them from any foe. Tinyclaw knew that this was what lay within every mother, every queen – this fierce fire, that petered down to a prideful smolder as she watched her kits grow.

Breathless, Tinyclaw staggered, but Brindleface's tail held him steady. She nodded to him, her eyes showing Tinyclaw all the love in her heart for her kits, even Cloudtail who was not her own. Tinyclaw swallowed, his mouth fuzzy – he knew that he couldn't deliver any message from her to her kits, even if he wanted to. This would have to be enough.

As Tinyclaw steadied himself, Brindleface left and another cat approached – this one was small and silver-gray, with tiny tabby markings. A kit! And one that took Tinyclaw a long time to recognize.

"Icekit!" he breathed.

Icekit had been Graystripe and Silverstream's third kitten – born dead in Silverstream's hard kitting. He had been buried by the water, where his spirit would flow to StarClan. Tinyclaw looked down at the kitten, drinking in every detail though he knew Graystripe could never know – he was stocky but slim, his fur sleek and healthy. His stripes were alike to his father's.

"With this life I give you loyalty to your heart!" Icekit had to stretch to reach Tinyclaw's muzzle. "A code may bar you, but your heart knows what must be done."

Tinyclaw swallowed the life like a painful lump of fresh-kill. Doubts and worried plagued him, clutching his mind in their claws. Was this right? Was he right? This was wrong, but he had to do _something_ – and then a light shone ahead. Tinyclaw padded towards it, and with each step he knew that even though everyone around him whispered that it was wrong, what he was about to do was the right thing.

He gasped. Was this how Graystripe and Silverstream had felt about their affair?

Icekit was gone, and Tinyclaw felt the hollow inside of him filling up. _Six lives given, and only three left…_ He searched the crowd for the last three.

His heart dropped.

Yellowfang strode forward, her head held stubbornly high. Even in StarClan, her fur was matted – but age did not slow her. Warmth filled Tinyclaw, warmth and sadness – Yellowfang had replaced Spottedleaf as ThunderClan's medicine cat, and had become something more to Tinyclaw. A guide, a mother. He longed to know if Yellowfang had heard his last words to her as she died, smoke from the greenleaf fire stopping up her lungs.

Her voice held no rasp. "With this life, I give you empathy," Yellowfang announced, touching her flattened nose to his. "Use it to step into another's paws, if only for a moment."

Tinyclaw drank in this life, wanting to feel it fully – and was surprised by the pain he felt. In his paws, from a cat who had run too hard. In his chest, for a warrior who had taken a harsh blow. Soreness, pricks, pains – he felt claws searing down his pelt as a battle patrol returned, ragged and bleeding, and feared for his own self, for a moment. And the pain of death – round red berries, their poison slowing his heart until it stopped.

He gasped for breath, his claws dragging against the ground. Feebly, he looked up at Yellowfang. The last vestiges of the life were fading, and suddenly he _understood._ Yellowfang had truly been an empathetic cat.

Yellowfang's eyes were warm, and she licked the fur between his ears, purring. "I always knew you'd be great," she meowed gently. Tinyclaw felt comforted, like a mother soothing her kit, and Tinyclaw knew then that Yellowfang had heard him, and felt the same. _Bear not the shame of Brokentail,_ he told her as she walked away. _See me as your son, Yellowfang – for I see you as my mother._

In her place came a smallish tom, his long, plumy red tail held up. His eyes gleamed as he saw Tinyclaw, and the young black warrior could not suppress a cry of joy.

"Redtail!"

The tortoiseshell warrior smiled at him. The formality of the ceremony was stifling – Tinyclaw wanted to rush against the starry warrior and press his muzzle into his neck fur. Redtail had guided Tinyclaw through his dreams since his death by Bluestar's claws. He had been the driving force for Tinyclaw's war against the ShadowClan leader.

"With this life, I give you justice," Redtail announced. He touched his nose to Tinyclaw's. "Use it to keep your Clan safe and fair."

Tinyclaw was eager again for this life, pulling it in – he wanted Redtail's strength, his purpose. It mattered little that it felt as if his pelt were aflame, or that frustration at justice undone felt like his heart was torn from his body: To sentence a criminal with what they deserved gave him a sense of grave satisfaction.

"Thank you," Redtail breathed as they parted. His eyes softened. "Thank you for finding justice for me. This life will serve you well."

"I can never thank you enough," Tinyclaw meowed. "You've done so much for me."

Redtail nodded. "And we will do much still," he promised. "I will not leave you. I will ever watch over the cat that brought me justice."

Tinyclaw was sad to see him pad away. Again, he knew he could never tell Sandstorm that he saw her father – but he would carry this moment, all these moments, with him forever.

Wind stirred his pelt. Tinyclaw's empty heart was full, but not utterly so. Eight lives burned in his pelt and he looked through the crowd of cats to see which would give him his ninth and final life. The starlight shifted, and the crowd of cats parted.

Tigerstar's broad shoulders pushed through, and he padded towards Tinyclaw with a shine in his pale amber eyes.

Tinyclaw was floored. ThunderClan's leader looked nothing like he had before – once sodden and thin, matted and dirty, now Tigerstar was strong and sleek, his stripes rippling along his brown-gold pelt like the beast for which he was named. He stood tall and proud, stars gleaming in his whiskers, before Tinyclaw.

"With this life," Tigerstar announced, touching his nose to Tinyclaw's forehead, "I give you nobility, certainty, and faith. Lean on these when darkness tries to claim your heart."

Tinyclaw was unsure what these felt like – and then he was swept away, struck on all sides but aggression and fierceness. Darkness blanketed his eyes eight times, and no sense of pride for himself filled him – just pride for his Clan. Living for others, and not himself, as his world crumbled all around him. Even worse was the pain he felt when all the stars seemed to go out in the night sky, leaving a sheet of darkness above and a cold, unfeeling moon.

The life ended with a glimmer of hope: It need not be this way. Tinyclaw reached for it, lunged for the light of faith and love, and he held his head high as he stood upon the Highrock. This was his destiny, this is what he was meant for. He could feel the breath of his ancestors in his ears – they had never left, would never leave. The loyalty of his Clanmates shone in their eyes below, and Tinyclaw knew that no matter what, this was who he was.

A leader.

Tinyclaw staggered, struggling to keep his footing as Tigerstar stepped away. He felt like falling, and flying, too, for the power burning in his body. Before him the stars shifted – the nine cats that had given him his lives suddenly surrounded him. All their voices raised as one, echoing through the cosmos:

"We welcome you!" they called. "We welcome you with your new name, Tinystar! StarClan grants you leadership of ThunderClan!"

Tinystar raised his head, swelling his chest with his new name.

"Tinystar!" the stars called. "Tinystar! Tinyst-"

The voices broke off with a hiss.

A hot, humid wind clogged Tinystar's senses. Smoky clouds covered the night sky above, blotting out the moonlight and plunging the world into darkness. The starry cats disappeared, one by one, rapidly – until only Tigerstar remained.

Light came from behind. Tinystar turned and found a wall of flame hissing, spitting, crackling behind him, threatening to consume him. Shapes of cats moved in the flames, their eyes menacing and claws long and jagged.

Tinystar turned away – only to find a wall of bones and blood before him, behind Tigerstar. The bones - pray bones, the bones of cats and other animals - rattled, blood oozing from between them. A shadow cast on the bones, a familiar shape with heartless eyes.

Tinystar pressed his pelt against Tigerstar's. "What's happening?" he called. "Please! Tell me!" The wall of bones was pressing close, and the wall of fire pressed closer. Tinystar knew he would be consumed by them both.

Shadows played on Tigerstar's face. _"Four will become two,"_ he meowed, his voice deep and echoing, _"Lion and Tiger will meet in battle, and Fire will devour the forest."_

"Tigerstar!" Tinystar called. The tabby cat seemed further away than ever. "What does it mean?" he pleaded. _"Please!"_

Tinystar blinked, and Tigerstar was gone.

All that remained was blood and fire.


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 _Tinystar woke with a start,_ _his_ claws digging into the earth below. The cave was cast in cold night-darkness, and yet Tinystar felt as if his pelt was hot with flame. He trembled in shock, eyes wide, trying to get his bearings.

"Bra-" Brackenfur's tail touched his nose before Tinystar could call for him.

"Keep silent," the medicine cat advised. "We'll talk outside."

The trip out of the cave was tense, and Tinystar couldn't help but take in a gulp of fresh air as they emerged. All was quiet outside – the night was clear with little clouds, fading into morning. A monster roared in the distance. Tinystar took a long moment to let the sounds of open reality calm him.

"What happened?" Brackenfur meowed. "I sensed something strange. Do you have your lives? Your name?"

"Yes," Tinystar breathed.

Brackenfur's eyes lit with relief. "Good," he meowed. "Tinystar! That will take some getting used to." He kneaded his paws in the dust. "Did you receive a message?"

Tinystar nodded. How could he tell Brackenfur of what he had seen, and that ominous message? Flames had already devoured the forest once – how could ThunderClan face such a threat again?

Brackenfur frowned. "You needn't worry on your own," he reminded gently. "I am your medicine cat, here to help you interpret the signs StarClan sends you."

"I know," Tinystar meowed. "I'm just… this is a lot."

"I understand."

Tinystar was glad for that. The ceremony had been so personal, so touching… Brackenfur's presence, though he was a friend, was pricking at Tinystar's pelt like a bug that needed shooing. In some small way Tinystar could still feel the intensity of the stars, and when he looked up he was sad to see his warrior ancestors so far away.

 _This experience is mine,_ he thought. _I can't possibly tell anyone, even if I could describe it. Not even Sandstorm!_ He regretted that he and his mate would never be able to share everything. All the cats he had seen, with loved ones and family still walking the forest… none of them could know.

Tinystar suddenly felt very, very small and very, very alone.

"We should head home as soon as possible," Brackenfur decided. "ThunderClan needs their leader."

Tinystar nodded in agreement, and Brackenfur led the way. Soon enough the Moonstone was behind them, and home was ahead.

They walked in silence, crossing the Thunderpath with ease, until Tinystar spotted Barley's barn, a Twoleg structure on the outskirts of the forest borders. Seeing the loner's home, and catching a whiff of mouse, made Tinystar's entire body sag with weariness.

"I need to stop," he managed.

"Lay down here," Brackenfur meowed. He glanced at the barn. "We'll take shelter when you've caught your breath."

Tinystar settled down on a dying patch of ferns, the fronds crackling beneath his body. His jaws stretched into a yawn so large his mouth ached for it. Brackenfur sat beside him, gently lapping at Tinystar's dusty pelt.

"How do you do it?" Tinystar wondered drowsily. "Every half moon, back and forth without rest?"

Brackenfur purred, "Practice."

Tinystar stretched out a sore foreleg, grasping at the ground with his claws. The paling light glinted off of his thorn-sharp claws and in that flash Tinystar saw the gleam of fire. He flinched involuntarily, disturbing Brackenfur.

" _Four will become two, Lion and Tiger will meet in battle, and Fire will devour the forest."_

The medicine cat laid his tail against Tinystar's pelt, measuring his panicked breathing. "It's all right," he meowed. "You're here. Do you need thyme?"

Tinystar trembled, trying to calm his breathing. He turned over his paw and sighed, feeling foolish at being so easily spooked. _I need rest… and food, or I'll start seeing things everywhere._ "I'm fine," he insisted. "Just… trying to sort things out."

Brackenfur made a noise that might have been acceptance – or a scoff – before he began grooming Tinystar's ears.

Tinystar frowned, feeling badly for leaving his friend so in the dark. There was no other cat that could help more – Brackenfur's life was dedicated to their ancestors. He turned and lapped at a tough knot of his friend's pale fur, trying to find words. They tangled like the fur before him in his throat.

Instead, Tinystar asked another question that had bloomed in his mind, something that had been there since he had stepped paw in the forest: "Brackenfur… does every cat have dreams from StarClan?"

"No," Brackenfur answered, his tone tinged with confusion. "Of course not. StarClan watches over all Clan cats, but not every cat can hear their messages – those that do are usually destined to be medicine cats."

Tinystar blinked at the answer. "I… I'll admit this – I have been guided by Redtail in many of my dreams."

Brackenfur pulled away, eyes wide. "R-Really?!"

Tinystar nodded. "Ever since I came to the forest," he admitted, "and some time before that, maybe."

"What kind of dreams?!"

"I only started seeing Redtail after he died," Tinystar explained. "He showed me things that would happen, but he'd never tell me how to handle them – or he'd be there when I was awake, to lead me somewhere important or tell me something." Brackenfur's fur was bristling. Was he angry? "B-But before that, I had dreams of the forest – living in it, exploring… I-I thought they were the same dreams any cat had, but now I wonder…"

Brackenfur's tail whipped. "Tinystar! This is… it's so unusual! Had you told any cat of these dreams you would be a medicine cat by now, you know that right?"

Tinystar blinked, purring, "Well, I don't think that's going to happen now – it's a bit late."

Brackenfur looked cross, curling his lip. "Don't joke like that, this is serious! StarClan has clearly laid down a great destiny for you, even having Redtail show you the way! Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I didn't think anyone would believe a _kittypet_ was having prophetic dreams," Tinystar admitted. "Do you?"

Brackenfur sagged, his features softening. "The ThunderClan of old would have dismissed it as nothing," he meowed, "but the ThunderClan of now? I do not think we could ever discount the potential of a kittypet, ever again. Not when StarClan themselves seem to have chosen one to be our leader in such a dark time. _Even the smallest cat can save the Clans_ …"

Tinystar swallowed.

Brackenfur's head rose. "I'm such a fool," he decided, "for not seeing it before. Your connection to StarClan is something that happens once in a lifetime, Tinystar. I… I am honored to be your medicine cat… and I will do everything in my power to aid you, until my dying breath."

"I… I know," Tinystar meowed, his voice tight. "Please, Brackenfur… I can't handle so much seriousness right now. This feels dire."

Coughing, Brackenfur meowed, "Yes… yes it does. My apologies."

Tinystar reached up with his muzzle and ran it along his friend's cheek. "Let's head to Barley's. We could both use a fat mouse or two."

Brackenfur nodded in agreement.

The two toms got to their paws. Tinystar stretched before leading the way, his tail up. Brackenfur limped along, a tinge of pain in his eye – the idea of stopping was a good one, Tinystar knew. They'd hurry to the barn and eat their fill, spread news to Barley and Ravenpaw, and be back to ThunderClan before sundown.

"So…" Tinystar wondered, filled with a small spurt of energy, "does every cat have just one cat the visits them? I've hardly ever seen any cat but Redtail."

Brackenfur's ears twitched. "Every Clan cat, connected to StarClan or not, has an ancestor to watch over them. Some are kin, some are old friends… they're generally the cats that will guide your spirit to StarClan in the end. I imagine Redtail wanted you to help him find justice for his death – perhaps for that he stays with you."

Tinystar nodded, thinking of the life that Redtail had given him: justice.

"Before you ask," Brackenfur meowed, "it's not proper to share your guide's identity. Among medicine cats we are open, but it's generally frowned upon. It can make less humble cats puff their chests too hard."

"I can understand that," Tinystar meowed. He glanced at his companion. If he had to guess… _It would be Yellowfang, I think, guiding him. Who else?_

He looked ahead, watching the land stretch before them. The Twolegs had sheared the corn to brittle stubs, and the way seemed clear of dogs or obstacles. Tinystar breathed in the night air.

"Who do you think guides Bluestar?" he wondered.

Brackenfur tensed.

"No StarClan cat, that's for sure," the medicine cat growled. "No… something dark haunts her pawsteps. Something dark and something that should have been forgotten long ago…"

* * *

They made it to the edge of Barley and Ravenpaw's territory before they met the loners. Tinystar had paused to sniff at their scent markers, and had just been about to note to Brackenfur how fresh they were when the sturdy, plump black-and-white tom emerged from the long grasses. Ravenpaw was smaller and thinner, the black tom Barley's shadow. Ravenpaw's eyes lit up at the sight of his former Clanmates.

"I thought the breeze smelled familiar!" he mewed excitedly, coming forward to touch noses. "What are you two doing here?"

Tinystar greeted Ravenpaw happily, purring – yet he couldn't bring himself to tell Ravenpaw the reason they had made this journey. Tigerstar had been his mentor, and knowing that he was dead would surely bring him sorrow.

Brackenfur explained instead: "We are coming back from the Moonstone and wondered if you might let us rest with you for a spell," he meowed.

"Of course," Barley meowed. He looked between Tinystar and Brackenfur, his eyes darkening. "I know a little about Clan life, you know – I've sheltered more than one medicine cat and deputy… I'm guessing Tigerstar has passed?"

Ravenpaw gave a start, his eyes widened. "W-What? Is that true, Tinyclaw?"

Tinystar nodded. Already it seemed odd to be addressed by his warrior name. "It is," he meowed solemnly. "I am Tinystar now."

Ravenpaw let out sigh of sorrow. Barley laid his tail along his friend's shoulders and meowed brusquely, "Let's get you two inside – you look exhausted. I'm sure then you'll feel up to telling Ravenpaw all about it."

Tinystar nodded in agreement. Barley led the way through the long grasses, Ravenpaw trailing behind. Tinystar and Brackenfur put on the last of their energy to keep up, not wanting to be left alone in unfamiliar territory that was known for its Twoleg and dog activity.

Soon enough they ducked into the barn, through a hole in the siding well-used by the two barn cats. The smells of hay and Twolegs touched Tinystar's nose – but more prominently was the smell of mice, jumpstarting the hunger he'd suppressed in the rush to get his nine lives.

His stomach must have growled loudly, because Barley's whiskers twitched in amusement. "Hunt," he invited, "enjoy yourselves. There's plenty."

Tinystar's tail twitched, his claws sliding in and out and itching to hunt – but he looked at Ravenpaw. The black tom was nestling himself into the straw, his eyes dark with thought.

"We've already eaten," Barley pointed out. He glanced at Ravenpaw, adding, "I'll be off – there's rats to catch."

Ravenpaw nodded absently. Barley squeezed out of the barn, leaving the Clan cats alone with the loner. Brackenfur settled himself down into a makeshift nest, bending to lick his sore leg. Tinystar squared his shoulders – in the forest, he'd have his work cut out for him to feed the both of them this time of leaf-bare, but here, Tinystar could hear just how many mice filled the barn. This would be a kitten's game.

Sure enough, moments later Tinystar had caught enough fresh-kill for himself and Brackenfur. The hunt had been easy – the mice almost leaping into Tinystar's claws – but it had felt good to lose himself in the hunt for a moment.

"Good haul," Ravenpaw commented. He seemed to have gotten over the shock of the news, chatting quietly with Brackenfur while Tinystar had hunted.

"What kind of leader would I be if I couldn't catch a mouse?" Tinystar chuckled, settling down to tuck in.

They talked as they ate. There was much to catch Ravenpaw up on – they hadn't seen one another in the forest since their mission to prevent all out battle between ThunderClan and WindClan. The news of the dog pack made Ravenpaw bristle.

"That's so unreal!" Ravenpaw breathed. "Like an elder's tale about the Dark Forest or something. How could one cat be so evil?"

"I have no idea," Tinystar agreed.

Ravenpaw shifted his paws. "You said that Tigerstar threw himself over the gorge with the dogs? That sounds exactly like something he'd do."

"He was brave," Tinystar meowed. "He was more himself then than he had been for moons."

"It feels unfair that he died then," Ravenpaw admitted.

"StarClan called him," Brackenfur said. He polished off the rest of his mouse. "It was his time."

Ravenpaw nodded in a sort of sorrowful agreement. "I'll miss Tigerstar – but I'm glad ThunderClan is safe. I think you're the only one who might be able to do something about Bluestar, Tinystar."

Tinystar swallowed. "I hope so."

"I'd fight by your side any time, to see her fall," Ravenpaw declared, his voice serious. "I haven't forgotten my warrior training – Barley and I practice together a lot. I'd use every skill I could muster to stop her from destroying the forest."

Tinystar felt warmed by his friend's determination. His pelt smoothed as he looked fondly upon Ravenpaw. "You'd earn your warrior name then, for sure," he meowed. "I'd be glad to give it to you."

Ravenpaw's tail flicked bashfully. "I don't know about that," he meowed, "but we'll see. I'll let you two get some rest before you head home. You look like you're about to drop."

Tinystar purred, thankful for his understanding. Warm and full-fed, it was easy to curl up and escape the worries of the world around him. Ravenpaw groomed both Tinystar and Brackenfur until they fell asleep, their soft snores filling the barn.


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 _The sun was setting as Tinystar_ and Brackenfur returned to ThunderClan. Their walk through the moorland had been uneventful – a WindClan patrol had spotted them but did not pursue, which was welcome. Likely they knew the two would be on their way home from the Moonstone.

Tinystar's dream still nagged at his mind, but the rawness of it had ebbed considerably since he'd entered the forest. Smelling the fresh scents and feeling the crackle of leaves underpaw had given him a spring to his step, and he had been eager to return home. Brackenfur, too, seemed energized by the trees overhead, his pace quickening comfortably on ground he knew well.

At first, the cats in the clearing did not see him. Tinystar was grateful for that – it let him take a deep breath of their familiar scents and look at them as their leader. His warriors, his apprentices, his _Clan._ The feeling had not long ago scared him but now he embraced it.

His eye caught on Mistypaw. The young she-cat was play-fighting with her brother, practicing battle moves. Tinystar knew that his leader duties could not interfere with her training. He had to get her back on routine as soon as possible.

Tinystar looked about for Whitestorm – the white warrior was one of the first that Tinystar wished to speak to. But Whitestorm was nowhere in sight, likely in the warrior's den. Before Tinystar could set out to find him, a cry came from the nursery.

Ashpaw had come out of the cozy den of brambles and spotted him, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "He's back!"

Suddenly Tinystar was surrounded. Brackenfur purred at Tinystar's sigh. The apprentices clustered around him, eyes shining, while the warriors kept a respectful distance. Even the elders had managed their way out of their den, Dappletail guiding One-eye up to the crowd with her tail.

"Did you really meet StarClan?" Fernpaw breathed.

"Yeah! Yeah!" Stonepaw crowed, "What was it like?"

"Hush!" Mosspaw mewed sternly, though her eyes were just as lit up as the others. "He can't speak of it!"

Her words did little to deter the apprentices.

"You're Tinystar, then, right?" guessed Ashpaw. "Tinystar! Tinystar!"

"Tinystar!" the Clan called.

Tinystar felt a spark of pride overcome his tiredness from the journey. He looked upon his Clan and held his head high, smiling. Though he was half the size of nearly all of them, he couldn't help but feel as if he were the tallest cat in existence.

"Was it hard?" Graystripe wondered through the din. The gray warrior came up beside him. "You both look exhausted."

"It was." Tinystar wished he could express just how hard it had been – but he could never speak of the sacred ceremony. He couldn't even tell his friends of the cats he had seen.

Cloudtail scoffed. "Only ancient traditions would make you drag yourself to Highstones for this," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "You've been leading ThunderClan just fine without some fancy journey."

No cat scolded her – Cloudtail's dubious faith in their warrior ancestors was clear now, and no cat wanted to argue on such an occasion. The comment did earn her some looks from other, older cats - but Cloudtail brushed them off easily, drawing a paw over her ear nonchalantly.

Still, Tinystar wished he could speak to her about Brindleface – the gentle queen had taken Cloudtail in as a kit and treated her as she had her own kits Ashpaw and Fernpaw. Would it make her see things differently, if he could? Tinystar had no idea.

"The traditions are important," came a quiet voice. Lostface approached, rubbing her pelt against Cloudtail's. "We believe in them, and that's what matters."

Beside her, Shredpelt nodded. The two cats wound around Cloudtail lovingly, and the ginger-and-white tabby she-cat purred at her mates. Tinystar blinked fondly at his niece, and was glad she had found herself two loving cats to spend her life with.

In the crowd he spotted Whitestorm and Oakheart. The older warriors were near the outskirts, giving Tinystar his space while the younger cats greeted him excitedly. Tinystar drew them forward with a flick of his tail.

"Has it been quiet?" he asked.

Whitestorm nodded. The white warrior looked tired and grieved, but he didn't seem to be crippled by it. Oakheart stood beside him solidly, a rock that Whitestorm could always lean on. Tinystar was more than grateful for both of them.

Brackenfur purred, "The hunting's been good."

Tinystar glanced at the fresh-kill pile and noted that the medicine cat was correct.

"The dogs aren't around anymore, so the prey started to come back," Oakheart reported. "Sandstorm took all the apprentices out for a great hunt! You should have seen Mistypaw – she caught so much!" He swelled with pride for his daughter.

Tinystar glanced at Mistypaw. "Good job," he told her. "I couldn't be prouder."

Mistypaw started at the words, her brilliant blue eyes wide. But the she-cat puffed out her chest and purred, her brother rolling his eyes beside her.

"Well!" Brackenfur meowed, "I need some rest." He stretched his body out languidly, yawning. When he was done, his eyes glazed with sleep, he turned to Tinystar and reminded, "You need to pick a deputy before moonhigh!"

Tinystar nodded his thanks. He glanced up at the sky, just turning to night itself. "I've time to think on it," he meowed.

"It will be important," Brackenfur pointed out. "You need to pick a cat that you can work with, and one that can work with the Clan too."

"Thanks," Tinystar offered. "Sleep well, Brackenfur."

The Clan was beginning to separate again, the crowd around him parting into little groups – likely to discuss who might be the next deputy. Tinystar was grateful for that – but there was one cat in the mix that he hadn't seen, who hadn't approached him, and it worried him to his core.

Sandstorm.

She was sitting in the shadow of the Highrock, her tail curled neatly over her paws. She didn't deserve to be draped in such shadows – as Tinystar approached, though, he knew she was beautiful no matter where she sat: sunshine or shadows, drenched in rain or warm and dry.

"You're home," she meowed gently.

"I'm home," he told her.

They stood in silence for a long moment – Tinystar could see the conflict in her eyes before she spoke the words to confirm it.

"Everything is going to be different now, isn't it?" she whispered. "Between us? Y-You're leader, and I'm just…"

Tinystar thrust his muzzle into her fur. He breathed in her warm, sweet scent and curled his tail into her's. His long journey, his terrifying dream… all that he had seen and experienced, and all he wanted to do right now was lose himself in his mate.

"Nothing is different," he insisted fiercely. "Nothing."

Sandstorm rested her muzzle against his head and purred.

"Well, then," Sandstorm said, "you need to choose a deputy."

Tinystar pulled his head away. The two cats looked into one another's eyes, and Tinystar felt like time had stopped all around them. He wanted to tell her so much about Redtail, about all that her father had done for him – but he couldn't. He never could.

 _But I will keep nothing else from you,_ Tinystar declared. _Not ever._

"I'll leave you to it," Sandstorm decided, licking his ear. "I know you'll choose well."

Her warmth lingered even as she uncurled from him, padding towards the warrior's den. Tinystar longed to follow her – but his part of their nest would go unused for the rest of his life. He was leader now. Tinystar looked up at the Highrock. This was where he would sleep now.

He slipped into the den beneath the Highrock quietly, feeling the whisper of the dry lichen against his spine. The den had been cleaned – the nest primped and freshened, and a large rabbit laid waiting for him. The den smelled of one of the apprentices, likely a task set by Whitestorm.

Tinystar curled up in the nest – his nest, now. His den. His home. It was so strange, sitting in the bracken fronds. This was where Tigerstar had always been – a space he always seemed to exist in. The den felt empty and hollow without him.

 _I will make it my own,_ Tinystar decided. _And perhaps Sandstorm will sleep with me here._

As Tinystar adjusted himself in his nest, his paw brushed against something soft. A tiny tuft of tabby fur was caught on one of his claws, smelling faintly of Tigerstar. Tinystar tucked it beneath his bracken, wanting a small piece of the late leader to be with him.

Tinystar pulled the rabbit over to him. As he ate, chewing slowly, he began to think about the only question he could answer: Who would be his deputy?

The critera, according to the warrior code, was small: The deputy had to be a warrior, the deputy had to have had at least one apprentice during or prior to their appointment, and they had to be appointed before moonhigh.

Tinystar frowned. That didn't narrow his choices – every warrior in the Clan had trained or was training an apprentice right now. He flicked his tail. This had to go right – his own deputy ceremony had been after moonhigh, against the warrior code. It had cast a great shadow upon his actions, and the elders had too often said it had been a bad omen.

He would not put another cat through that.

 _They need to have experience,_ Tinystar thought. _Youth is great but that's not what I think is best right now._

He eliminated Dustpelt and Cinderpelt from his mind. Cinderpelt would be too busy training Snowpaw to be a deputy, and Dustpelt did not feel like a good fit.

Regretfully, he pushed away Graystripe and Sandstorm, too. They were his friends, but that was not the right reason to pick them – Graystripe was still fighting for the Clan's trust after his tryst with a RiverClan queen, and Sandstorm was his mate: it would feel too much like playing favorites.

Mousefur and Longtail came next. Both had proven to be a great check to Tinystar's own personality, but he didn't want a deputy he would only argue with. Beside – neither seemed to care for such positions, anyway. A little ambition did go a long way. Though, Tinystar did consider that one day Mousefur might make a good deputy, if she wanted it.

Tinystar dug his claws into his nest. This was not an easy task, and time was wasting! His rabbit had been cleaned down to the bone.

 _Come now, Tinystar…_ A familiar scent crossed Tinystar's nose. _You know who, of all of ThunderClan, deserves this._

Redtail!

Tinystar closed his eyes and breathed in deep his scent and his wisdom. "Yes," he agreed, opening his eyes.

"Yes, I do."

* * *

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

Tinystar's voice rang out loud and proud from the top of the Highrock. His paws felt welcome on the smooth stone, which had supported ThunderClan leader after ThunderClan leader for generations. It was his turn now.

He looked down, watching his Clan as they padded forward. The moon was rising above the trees – they knew what this announcement meant. Cats gathered in excited groups, still eagerly gossiping over who might be chosen as Clan deputy.

Thankfully, Tinystar had made up his mind.

His eyes scanned the crowd. Nearly every cat seemed excited – nearly. Over near the outskirts, Stonepaw and Mousefur were glaring at one another. Stonepaw snapped at the older she-cat before whipping around to stalk away, finally settling with his littermates. Mistypaw and Mosspaw's eyes glittered with concern, but Stonepaw was looking at his paws, unwilling to talk.

 _Hm,_ Tinystar noted, watching Mousefur stalk away herself. _What happened there? Mousefur is a proud cat but I can't imagine Stonepaw wanting to get under her fur on purpose._

It was something that had to be dealt with later. Eyes were gazing at him expectantly, and a hush had rippled through the crowd as they waited for him to speak.

Tinystar cleared his throat. "Cats of ThunderClan – as you all know, I have made the journey to Moonstone under accordance to the warrior code. I have been accepted by StarClan as your leader."

"Tinystar! Tinystar!" the Clan called.

Tinystar waved his tail for silence. "The moon is rising and, in accordance with the warrior code, it is time for me to appoint a new deputy."

The Clan waited with bated breath, eyes shining. Some more eagerly than others, of course – perhaps they thought it might be them? But Tinystar had made his decision already, and he knew it would be the right one.

He raised his muzzle to the stars. "I say these words before StarClan, so they may hear and approve of my choice!

"The new deputy of ThunderClan is Whitestorm."

A ripple of approval came from the crowd. The white warrior looked up, his eyes wide with shock. Tinystar met his gaze, smiling down at the loyal old warrior. _That's exactly why it's you, Whitestorm,_ he thought. _You have helped me so much, helped ThunderClan so much, and even now you are shocked when you are given such a position. Had Tigerstar been in his right mind at the time, you would have been in my paws instead._

 _You are wise and humble, and for that this is what you deserve._

"Whitestorm! Whitestorm!"

Whitestorm was jostled forward by his Clanmate's cheers, until the white warrior could turn to face them all. Their cheering died down under his sandy gaze.

"I am speechless," he admitted. "I… did not expect this." Whitestorm looked up at Tinystar, pride glittering in his eyes. "Thank you, Tinystar. I will serve you, serve ThunderClan until my last breath."

"I know," Tinystar meowed.

Tinystar watched as his Clanmates gathered around to congratulate Whitestorm. The old warrior was respected, his words valued by each and every one of them – even proud Mousefur, who butted his shoulder with her head and made a joke Tinystar couldn't hear. Sandstorm touched noses with her former mentor, clearly so proud of him. Whitestorm's kittens bounced around him, bragging loudly that they got extra fresh-kill because their father was deputy.

Tinystar looked down at his Clan and marveled at the bonds that held them together. So much strength lay in them all. Tinystar knew he could lay any of his lives into the paws of these cats and be proud regardless, and he knew that he would lay down any of his lives for theirs. The cats that had once seemed strange and wild to him during his kithood he now could not imagine his life without.

 _No matter what comes,_ he thought, _no matter what that prophecy means… ThunderClan will survive._


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 _Pine needles softened Tinystar's pawsteps. Above_ him only the very tops of the pines stirred with a breeze. Down below was a very cool, dry day, overcast by grayish-yellow clouds. Tinystar relished the snap in the air, taking in the rich wood smells with a deep breath.

 _It will snow soon,_ he thought, looking through the tall trunks of pine and cedar. _And then leaf-bare will truly be upon us._

He ignored the smells of prey. He'd eaten just before setting out, choosing to walk the well-trodden trail through Tallpines on his own. After all that had happened at Mothermouth, and Whitestorm's deputy ceremony the night before, Tinystar simply wanted some time to himself – to walk the forest and come to grips with what was now truly _his_ territory.

Whitestorm slotted into his deputy position easily, flowing naturally into giving orders to patrols and organizing cats to ensure the camp walls would last the first inevitable snowstorm. Tinystar felt no qualms about leaving him in charge for the morning – he'd truly picked the best cat to be his first deputy.

Tinystar let his paws take him where they willed – walking through the forest and letting himself listen and scent and simply feel the air against his thickening pelt. The forest trails that had once been ominous and frightening to him, the subject of horror stories told by his old kittypet friend Smudge and his half-brother Rusty, were now so achingly familiar Tinystar knew he could walk them with his eyes closed and his whiskers pulled.

He couldn't help but recall his first trek through the woods – feeling the wind in his whiskers for the first time, feeling the soft earth beneath his paws, tripping over every root but skimming the undergrowth and feeling like he was truly where he belonged.

 _It wouldn't have happened if not for Tigerstar._

The grief he felt for Tigerstar would stay with him forever, Tinystar knew. Yet with each passing day he grew more certain that this was how it was all meant to happen – that Tigerstar had somehow known that Tinystar would be his successor. That Tinystar would be the one to protect ThunderClan for seasons to come.

The pines opened up suddenly, and Tinystar paused. His paws had taken him to Twolegplace.

His tail flicked. Was it some form of providence? Or had his thoughts of his past steered him? Tinystar didn't know. He laid down a scent marker at the edge of the trees and continued on through the large field behind the Twolegplace, his ears trained to the rows of fences for any dangers.

Finally the urge overtook him – Tinystar, with a mighty leap, sprang onto the top of the fence row, pausing to gain his balance before continuing on.

The scent of cat was faint. Tinystar guessed that most Twolegs wouldn't let their kittypets out in this chill.

He padded along the fences, keeping an eye out for dogs or other cats. Not all kittypets were soft, full-fed layabouts. He stopped when a flash of fur inside one of the Twoleg nests caught his eye.

It was a she-cat – her scent was gently laid over the backyard, trailing along the stone path that led into the garden. Her fur was soft and brown, with patches of white. Her eyes were round and yellow in her round and chubby face and she looked utterly round and happy and unaware of Tinystar from behind her glass window.

Tinystar peered at her and found himself thinking of what kind of warrior she'd make: _Not a good one,_ he thought. _She'd spend all leaf-bare starving off the extra weight… and even if she made it through that she'd have to work hard to make those big round paws do anything but scare all the prey…_

He stiffened. Was this what Tigerstar had thought when he had looked at him, all those seasons ago? Tinystar's paws kneaded against the fenceboard, feeling a prickle of discomfort. _What_ did _he think of me? I didn't grow much since…_

Tinystar shook his head to clear his head – he'd not grown in height, yes, but in stature? His pelt rippled with strong muscles and his instincts were honed razor-sharp! He was a warrior!

He was about to move on – but something stopped him. That garden… perhaps it was all the reminiscing, but it was starting to look…

Tinystar let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding – this was his old nest.

Now that he had realized it, everything flooded back into his mind's eye. There was the bush where he'd always made dirt, with the heavy flowers that disguised his scent – there was his housefolk's little water pool, surrounded by smooth stones. There was the place where he'd chased his first squirrel. There was where he'd met Smudge for the first time, and where he'd tried to dig a hole out beneath the fence – the wiry mesh his housefolk had put up to catch his claws was still there.

Tinystar turned his gaze to the fat kittypet in the window, and his heart… ached.

His Twolegs had moved on.

There was something bittersweet about knowing it, something sad and selfish about the fact that Tinystar hadn't thought of them at all when he left.

 _We're both happy now,_ he decided. _They have a kittypet that's happy to be with them… and I am a warrior._

 _It was for the best._

Tinystar forced himself to hop down. The sun was climbing in the sky behind the clouds, and Tinystar knew that Whitestorm would be expecting him home sooner rather than later. He stretched, pulling warmth back into his body. He'd spent too long here, swimming in memories and nostalgia – he had to look forward now.

The bushes rustled.

Tinystar stiffened, unsheathing his claws. He peered at the undergrowth just outside the Twolegplace, narrowing his eyes.

"Come out," he growled.

The bushes waved, their drying branches crackling – and out of them padded Mistypaw.

Tinystar relaxed his spine, sheathing his claws. He sighed. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Mistypaw's tail was low, but she gave Tinystar a somewhat defiant stare. She stood her ground, her paws digging into the frosted earth.

"I wanted to practice my tracking," she declared. "I saw you leave and I…" her eyes lowered, her resolve fading suddenly. "I got curious."

"And?" Tinystar wondered. He approached, sitting beside her.

Mistypaw's tail kinked, and suddenly she had regained her fire – she stared Tinystar in the eye, demanding, like their roles were suddenly reversed and Tinystar was the misbehaving apprentice and Mistypaw the stern mentor: "What are _you_ doing here?"

Tinystar peered at his apprentice, admiration growing in his chest. Suddenly he was taken back to his early days as an apprentice, when Bluefur had caught him talking to Smudge during an assessment. Tigerstar had questioned his loyalty – and rightly so.

"Have no fear, Mistypaw – I'm not here to rejoin the kittypets," he assured. "I'm a Clan cat through and through but… it never hurts to remember where you came from."

Mistypaw glanced at the Twolegplace behind her. She shuddered. "Why would any cat want to live with _Twolegs?"_

Tinystar purred. "Mistypaw – living with Twolegs is something like living in a Clan. You take care of each other like Clan cats do, just in different ways."

Mistypaw's tail bristled. "But they're so much _bigger_ than us! How can they ever understand us? Where's the _freedom?"_

"Well," Tinystar went on, "you're right about that – there are major differences, and the Twolegs do often seem very controlling. Some are downright mean – but you could say the same for some Clan cats, you know? A Twoleg… they'll treat you like you're a kit more than not, but it's never out of malice. They just want to keep you safe."

Mistypaw curled her lip. "I don't like it!" she insisted. "I can keep myself safe! They'd _never_ understand that."

"No, no they wouldn't," Tinystar agreed. He thought of the she-cat in the window, who would hardly leave her nest without a Twoleg's permission. Who would only eat when they fed her. There were trade-offs for both ways of life.

Tinystar took a deep breath. "Mistypaw… ThunderClan will always be my priority – but I won't deny that I want to see Cloudtail's mother, Fiona, sometimes. No one in the Clans will ever forget that I was once a kittypet… and I can't, either."

Mistypaw frowned. "The elders… they tell a story about Pine – a cat from ThunderClan who…"

"… Who left his post as leader to become a kittypet," Tinystar finished. He recalled that story from his own apprenticeship. "I know. But that's not me - I don't seek to flee my responsibilities… and you oughtn't begrudge Pine too much for wanting to flee his."

"Why?" hissed Mistypaw in disbelief. "He was a coward!"

Tinystar's tail rested on her shoulders. "There are pressures that not every cat is fit to handle, Mistypaw. Not every warrior is born with the forest in their heart, just like not every kittypet is filled with goose down and laziness. Every cat is different."

Mistypaw opened her jaws, and then shut them. Her tail curled around her paws. "Sorry," she mumbled, looking down. "I… didn't think of it like that."

"That's all right," Tinystar soothed.

Tinystar got to his paws. He raised his tail, signaling Mistypaw. "Let's head back. We can finish my patrol on the way. Does that sound good?"

Mistypaw nodded.

Together they padded through the open field and back into the safety of Tallpines. Above them the clouds were darkening, yellowing deeply at their edges. Mistypaw trailed behind slightly, and, when Tinystar looked back, he saw that her blue eyes were clouded. Tinystar halted, turning to his apprentice.

"What is it, Mistypaw?" he wondered.

Mistypaw glanced his way, and then back to her paws. Tinystar frowned. Clearly, something was on her mind.

"You can tell me," he coaxed. "I'm your mentor."

"I know," Mistypaw mumbled. She flopped onto her haunches, her tail stilling in the discarded pine needles. She looked plaintively up at Tinystar, her eyes suddenly wide and sad. "Do you think any cat will forget that I'm Bluestar's daughter?"

Tinystar's heart caught in his throat, a wave of empathy crashing down on him. _We're so similar,_ he thought, _forced to prove our loyalties all the time, because there's always some cat that will doubt us for our bloodlines._

"I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I'm sorry."

Mistypaw frowned, looking back down at her paws. It was not the reassurance she'd wanted, and Tinystar felt badly about that – but what else could he do, lie to her? Promise that no one would ever judge her for who came before?

"How are you getting on with the other apprentices?" Tinystar asked.

Mistypaw frowned. "Snowpaw and Fernpaw are fine… they're good friends. Fernpaw and I talk a lot and Snowpaw is hard to understand sometimes but… I like him."

"And Ashpaw?"

Mistypaw squared her shoulders. "He gives me and Stonepaw dirty looks all the time," she meowed tersely, "like… like _we_ killed Brindleface, y'know?"

Tinystar frowned. "I'll speak with him about that," he decided. "That's not fair of him."

Mistypaw only gave a halfhearted shrug.

"And Stonepaw?" Tinystar recalled him snapping at Mousefur only yesterday.

"He's trying really, really hard – we both are," Mistypaw replied. Concern flashed across her eyes. "He works so hard he's tired a lot. Sometimes he doesn't sleep well – but, well, none of us do, really. We keep dreaming of the dogs…"

Tinystar frowned. "They'll pass, with time," he assured her. The rest of her report worried him deep down, but there was little he could do about Stonepaw's sleeping habits. "I'll tell Sandstorm to let up on him for a little while."

"Thanks," Mistypaw meowed. "I just want him to feel… good, you know? About his life."

"What do you feel?"

Mistypaw shrugged again. "I don't know – sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad. I think it'll get better once, you know… things calm down."

Tinystar nodded. "So do I." Was Mistypaw telling him the whole truth of her feelings? He didn't expect her to tell him everything, really. What was Mistypaw doing differently from Stonepaw? Tinystar had no idea.

"Let's keep moving," Tinystar meowed. He nudged his muzzle against Mistypaw's shoulder. "It's going to snow soon."

"Snow?" Mistypaw's eyes went wide. "Really?"

* * *

"This is amazing, Tinystar!"

Tinystar curled his tail around his paws.

Mistypaw had been born in the turn of leaf-bare into newleaf – she had never seen snow before now.

It was falling in fat, thick flakes from the sky, covering the ground with a thin covering of powder and quickly gathering in the crooks of every branch above. Their patrol had halted when the first flakes began to fall.

Now Mistypaw was pouncing and leaping through the snowfall, purring and screeching with delight. She was trying to catch each flake one moment and the next she was scattering them along with the damp leaves. She twirled like a kit while the snowflakes caught on her thick, plumy tail.

To Mistypaw it was a kit's delight – to Tinystar, it was a sign of what was to come for ThunderClan. Hunger, cold, sickness… all came with the first flakes of snow. Beauty and fear for a whole season.

He looked back. They were past Tallpines now, on the trail near the quiet Thunderpath. Across the Thunderpath was ShadowClan. The snow was doubtless falling all over the forest, even there. Through the haze of snow Tinystar wondered… what was Bluestar plotting? What was she thinking?

A squeal from Mistypaw made Tinystar turn his head back to his apprentice.

She was rolling in the snow, trying to catch the flakes with her pads. Her whiskers were freckled with little white flakes, and her pelt was dusted with snowfall. Her eyes were wide like a kit's, her mouth open in delight. She didn't care about the coming leaf-bare, or all the troubles mounting over ThunderClan's head – not in this moment. Right now she was young and she was playing and she was happy.

Tinystar's tail flicked, and not for the first time he wondered...

Had Bluestar ever been the same?


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 _The snow stopped when Tinystar_ _and_ Mistypaw reached the edge of Tallpines. The gray she-cat was still shaking flakes from her whiskers, her eyes still bright with excitement. Tinystar was happy to see her happy, but the air was growing cold and he'd already been gone longer than he'd promised Whitestorm.

Graystripe's scent crossed his nose a moment before the shaggy gray tom appeared, puffing, from the bracken. Snowflakes were caught in his pelt.

"I thought I smelled you," he meowed, whiskers twitching. "I couldn't find a thing in the flurry."

"That's all right," Tinystar said back. "It's not surprising that the prey would go to ground at the first snow – they'll come out now that it's stopped."

Graystripe's ear twitched. "True enough." His eyes flickered from Tinystar to Mistypaw and back again. "Want to join me?"

Tinystar nodded. A run would certainly warm him up, and he was beginning to feel hungry. He glanced down at Mistypaw. "Are you too tired to hunt?"

Mistypaw shook her head. "Of course not!" she purred.

"Lead the way, then," Tinystar told Graystripe.

Graystripe raised his tail and led the way into the forest. Tinystar kept his mouth open, searching keenly for prey-scent. Moments later, Tinystar's hypothesis proved correct: Graystripe had caught a mouse out foraging from their den, and Mistypaw managed to grapple a squirrel in a tree.

"Be careful," Tinystar called, looking up at her. She hadn't had a lot of formal tree-climbing training.

Mistypaw nodded, the squirrel dangling from her jaws. Her eyes were wide, and she began to look for a proper way down – but she paused and raised her tail in warning instead of moving.

Tinystar stiffened preemptively – but the rustling bracken and undergrowth revealed Stonepaw and…

"Sorrelkit?" Graystripe gasped, dropping his mouse. "What're you doing out here? Where's Willowpelt?"

"Stonepaw?" Tinystar asked, frowning. "What's going on?"

Stonepaw looked no small amount of irritated – his shoulders squared, his blue eyes flashing at Sorrelkit, who was bouncing around the stone-gray tom with her tail in the air. Mistypaw had time to scramble down the tree with her squirrel before Stonepaw began to explain himself.

"I went out to hunt," Stonepaw explained, "but I found Sorrelkit following me around. I wanted to take her home before she was missed."

Graystripe shared a glance with Tinystar. "Does Sandstorm know you're out?" Graystripe wondered.

Stonepaw's ear twitched. "S-She doesn't," he admitted, scuffing a paw. "I just wanted some air."

Sorrelkit raised her dappled tail and chittered indignantly, "Just wanted some air? You were stalking around – what, were you stalking the _air?"_

"I was practicing!" hissed Stonepaw, his shoulder fur bristling. "It's cold out here! Do you know how hard it is to catch prey when you're cold?"

Tinystar frowned. A glance at Graystripe told him that he wasn't alone in worrying about what Stonepaw had really been out doing – but a glance at Mistypaw quieted Tinystar's worries. Mistypaw was staring at her brother, all the faith in the world in her eyes. How could he accuse him of anything suspicious while she was looking at him like that?

 _For later,_ he thought. He glanced at Graystripe, willing the gray warrior to take the hint. A quieter huff was his answer, and Tinystar was glad that Graystripe understood. _Perhaps he just wants to practice and be the best apprentice he can be?_

"We can take Sorrelkit home and then hunt together, if you want," Mistypaw offered, raising her tail. Sorrelkit slapped her tail against the earth, clearly unhappy with the idea.

"We'll do that, yes," Tinystar decided. He raised his brows at Sorrelkit. "Don't pout," he meowed, "your mother and your brothers are no doubt worried about you."

Sorrelkit rolled her eyes. "Fine…" she sighed.

"Alright," Stonepaw decided, somewhat reluctantly. Tinystar peered at the gray tom, wondering how he looked so tired. When had he gone out? "Let's go."

* * *

The patrol returned in the evening, laden with prey. Stonepaw had caught two shrews, while Mistypaw had managed another squirrel – earning a joke from Graystripe that her name ought to be Mistysquirrel when she became a warrior. _Certainly not!_ Tinystar thought. Graystripe managed a vole along with his mouse and Tinystar had taken down a bird himself.

"Well!" Whitestorm huffed, "I see you've been busy!"

Tinystar gestured with his tail for his patrol to put their prey on the pile. He dropped his own bird, gagging on a feather for a moment before meowing, "It went well. How was camp today?"

Whitestorm's tail waved. "It was quiet," he reported. "Not a stir of trouble."

"Good," Tinystar purred. "And you…?"

Whitestorm shook his head. "Don't," he said quietly. "I can handle my own grief, Tinystar. Don't worry about me."

Tinystar nodded. "Alright then."

A flash of fur caught his eye. Snowpaw was coming out of the elder's den, signing a farewell with his tail. Tinystar frowned into the elder's den, seeing the dark shapes huddling within. A thought tickled at his mind, and Tinystar knew what he had to do.

"Excuse me," Tinystar told Whitestorm, "I need to speak to One-eye."

"Of course," Whitestorm meowed. His eyes sparkled, as if he knew what was on his leader's mind.

Tinystar padded over to the elder's den, stopping first to grab a shrew from the fresh-kill pile before ducking his head into the hollow tree. Spindly dead vines tugged at his pelt as he settled down in the moss.

"Tinystar!" Dappletail purred. "What can we help you with?"

"It's warm in here," Speckletail added, "but don't get too comfortable – we're cramped!"

"You're the only one cramping, dear," Dappletail hushed.

Speckletail narrowed her eyes at the old queen, gave a good-natured huff, and then curled up.

"I'll tell Brackenfur about your crampings," Tinystar promised, "but right now I wanted to talk to One-eye."

"Oh?" Dappletail's eyes widened. She nudged the pale she-cat beside her until One-eye shifted and opened her cloudy eyes. "Tinystar wants to talk to you," Dappletail told her quietly.

"Me?" rasped the old she-cat. "What would he want with me, now?"

Tinystar pushed forward his shrew offering. One-eye did not look at it – her blind eyes were useless. Her nose twitched, however, and her paw reached out to touch the fresh-kill. "Warm," she purred. "Thank you, Tinystar. What is it you wanted?"

He waited for her to tuck in before he asked his question. "One-eye… I know your name was not always One-eye. There must be some sort of name-changing ceremony. Do you remember it?"

One-eye was quiet for a while, gnawing at a bone. The shrew had been warm, yes, but there wasn't much meat on it. The old she-cat seemed to devour it in two gulps. Dappletail and Speckletail settled together in their own corner of the den, keeping out of the way while One-eye was thinking.

"There is, yes," One-eye meowed, her voice crackling. "This is for… Lostface?"

"And Shredpelt, yes," Tinystar confirmed.

One-eye nodded, closing her eyes with a weary purr. "Good, good," she murmured. "Those two are young… they don't deserve such names."

Tinystar's tail flicked. "So you'll help?"

"Of course!" One-eye huffed. "Hold your shrews, little one; my memory is cloudy these days… let me think…"

* * *

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

The moon was glowing in the sky, frost gently touching the dying grass as the cats of ThunderClan gathered in the shadow of the Highrock. Tinystar stood above them, feeling more comfortable than he ever had before up here. This was truly his place now, and those below were truly his Clan.

His eye caught Sandstorm's and Cloudtail's. The two she-cats were sitting together – Cloudtail could not disguise the puff of excitement that was her tail. He'd discussed this ceremony with them after his talk with One-eye – together, the three of them had come up with suitable names.

"Cats of ThunderClan!" Tinystar announced. "I am proud to be your leader – the dogs are gone, the borders are secure, and the fresh-kill pile is full. Leaf-bare is here but we are facing it united!"

"Tinystar! Tinystar!" called the Clan below.

Tinystar raised his tail for silence. "I have called you all here tonight for something that will no doubt bring us all even closer together. Shredpelt, Lostface – come forward."

The scarred cats sat up, shocked. They moved forward only when Cloudtail urged them to – the ginger-and-white she-cat's purr could be heard from atop the Highrock. The Clan murmured in anticipation – what was going on now?

Tinystar stepped down from the Highrock to meet the two young cats. Shredpelt had his shoulders squared. His stump of a tail was fully healed, and the scars along his body were being hidden by leaf-bare thick fur. His limp, the way he favored one of his hind legs as he stood, was barely noticeable. Beside him, Lostface's fur was beginning to return around the edges of her facial scar – the eye would never return, nor would her ear grow back – but she was no longer in pain.

Tinystar raised his muzzle to the sky and beseeched the stars, pulling One-eyes words from his memory: "Spirits of StarClan, you know every cat by name. I ask you now to take away the names from the cats you see before you, for they no longer stand for who they are."

A hush fell over the crowd. Expectant eyes turned to Tinystar and the two nameless cats before him.

Tinystar lowered his muzzle, looking to the black-and-white tom. "By my authority as Clan leader, and with the approval of our warrior ancestors, I give this cat a new name – from this moment forward, he will be known as Swiftfoot, for his determination and quick thinking."

Swiftfoot's eyes widened, and he was stiff as wood when Tinystar touched his nose to his patched forehead. Swiftfoot licked his shoulder in response.

Then, Tinystar turned to the ginger-and-white she-cat, with her poor lost eye. "I give this cat a new name," Tinystar called. "From this moment forward, she will be known as Brightheart, for her gentle soul and her compassion."

Brightheart's eye widened, and Tinystar thought the she-cat would cry out – but she merely trembled with gratitude as Tinystar touched her forehead, barely anble to keep steady as she licked his shoulder.

Tinystar stepped back. "StarClan! Accept them now. Swiftfoot! Brightheart!"

"Swiftfoot! Brightheart!" called the Clan.

"They're perfect!" Cloudtail screeched. She pushed her way through the crowd and in between the newly-named cats, purring as hard as she could. Cloudtail began covering them both with licks. "I love it! I love you both!"

The Clan broke apart, giving congratulations to Swiftfoot and Brightheart individually. Tinystar stepped aside, giving them space. He curled his tail over his paws, watching the joy on the injured cats faces.

"I told you they would be good names," Sandstorm stated, coming to his side.

Tinystar touched her shoulder with his muzzle. "I never doubt you," he admitted.

Sandstorm purred. "Look at how happy Cloudtail is – how long do you think it'll be before there are kits?"

Tinystar sighed. His niece was buzzing with joy, winding around her mates with her tail in the air and eyes shining. Brightheart and Swiftfoot were just as caught up in the moment as she was. "Who knows?" Tinystar meowed. "All I care about is that they're happy."

"Definitely," Sandstorm agreed. "No cat deserves names like those."

Together, Tinystar and Sandstorm watched the crowd begin to disperse – cats huddled up to share tongues one last time before heading to their nests. It was when the buzz had settled to a slight purr in the breeze that Cloudtail approached Tinystar, leaving Swiftfoot and Brightheart alone for a moment.

The she-cat rubbed her muzzle against her uncle's cheek. "Thank you," she meowed quietly. "They deserve those names."

"I know," Tinystar agreed. "They always did."

Cloudtail pulled away, glancing back at her mates. "I… have a request."

"Name it," Tinystar offered.

"I would like to train them," Cloudtail said. "I don't have an apprentice of my own yet, but they're out of practice. They have warrior names now, and there's no reason that either of them can't be full warriors like everyone else."

Tinystar glanced at Sandstorm for guidance. His mate looked thoughtful. Tinystar meowed, "I think it's a wonderful idea, Cloudtail."

Cloudtail's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Of course," Tinystar went on. "Anything can happen to any of us – what you teach Brightheart and Swiftfoot could help any disabled or injured cat we have in the future. And their knowledge would be invaluable to those cats, too."

"Thank you!" Cloudtail purred. "Thank you so much!"

Tinystar raised his tail. "I'll have to assess them," he warned, "but once I think they're fit to fight they can commit to full warrior duties again."

Cloudtail hopped on her paws. "Oh, you'll see!" she meowed. "They'll be the scariest warriors in the forest when I'm through with them!"

Tinystar purred at his niece, watching her pad away to tell her mates. Both Swiftfoot and Brightheart were shocked at the news, but they both seemed equally happy. He had no doubt that Cloudtail would make good on her promise.

Pride swelled in Tinystar's heart. He leaned against Sandstorm as he gazed at his Clan. Some were heading to their nests, other were still up and talking. A few even picked at the fresh-kill pile, looking for juicy leftovers. And yet… One cat was not amongst the revelers.

Stonepaw.

He was sitting with his sisters and the other apprentices, yes – but he wasn't chatting. He was looking down at his paws, at his untouched meal, which had likely gone stiff by now. Tinystar couldn't help but frown, though he did his best to hide it from Sandstorm.

What was going on with Stonepaw?


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

" _More aggression, Fernpaw! An enemy warrior_ isn't going to be sleeping during battle!"

The young she-cat was a speckled gray blur as she lunged at Mistypaw. Tinystar's watched his apprentice's eyes stretch wide – she'd been putting faith in Fernpaw's gentle nature this whole time, taking good advantage of her denmate – as Fernpaw shoved Mistypaw roughly into the cold sand. Tinystar heard Mistypaw's breath escape.

"Like that?" Fernpaw asked, her green eyes bright.

"Yes, exactly," Tinystar meowed, "but be aware of -"

Fernpaw shrieked as Mistypaw surged upward, using her size to turn the tide on Fernpaw. Poor Fernpaw was suddenly enveloped in dark blue-gray fur, and Mistypaw stood proudly over her denmate.

"— that," Tinystar finished.

"No fair!" Fernpaw sighed. "I wasn't paying attention!"

"You _need_ to pay attention, mouse-brain!" Mistypaw cuffed Fernpaw good-naturedly over the ear. "We're practicing for battle with other Clans!"

"You have more speed than Mistypaw," Tinystar advised, looking the speckled apprentice over. "Use it to your advantage!"

Fernpaw nodded. Mistypaw let her up, and the two began to prowl and pace around one another again. Tinystar turned his attention to Ashpaw and Stonepaw, who were struggling with one another on the other side of the clearing.

Tinystar narrowed his eyes at the two toms – Mistypaw had reported that Ashpaw held some aggression towards Stonepaw and Mistypaw. In assessing the apprentices together, Tinystar hoped to see some evidence of that aggression – alongside seeing where the apprentices and mentors needed to focus going forward.

"Good job!" Mistypaw panted. "You got under me and I didn't even see you!"

Fernpaw's voice was tired. "T-Thanks!"

"Let's do it again!"

"Okay!"

Tinystar glanced at his apprentice. She and Fernpaw got along well, it seemed. Fernpaw was a gentle personality to be sure – no doubt she was friendly with any ThunderClan cat. Fernpaw seemed to be taking Tinystar's advice to heart, using her smaller size and lighter paws to trick and tackle Mistypaw easily.

"Get off of me, Ashpaw!"

"Make me, Stone-brain!"

Tinystar frowned, looking at the toms. Ashpaw had Stonepaw pinned, using all his weight against the more sturdy cat. Tinystar narrowed his eyes, catching the glint of claws.

"Don't call me that!" Stonepaw hissed, wiggling underneath Ashpaw. "That's not fair!"

Ashpaw dug his claws in. "Make me!" he repeated.

Stonepaw let out a yowl of anger, surging upwards and sending Ashpaw flying with a twist of his body. He landed on his paws and then sprang, catching Ashpaw while he was belly-up. Stonepaw pummeled Ashpaw's belly with his hind paws, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Enough!" snapped Tinystar. He heard a gasp from Fernpaw as she and Mistypaw broke away from one another.

When his voice did not make them stop, Tinystar leaped forward. He grabbed Stonepaw by the scruff, pulling the heavier cat off of Ashpaw. He tossed Stonepaw aside, planting himself between the two aggressing apprentices, his fur bristling and his icy eyes narrowing to slivers.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Claws are _sheathed_ during training!"

Stonepaw clenched his jaw and turned away, his tail low with shame. Blood from his scratches oozed from his shoulders. On the other side, Ashpaw was glaring defiantly at Stonepaw, his blue eyes dark with anger. A little bubble of blood formed on one of his ear tips. Both toms said nothing.

"No answer?" Tinystar growled. "Well! The both of you are certainly done with training for today – you'll both be tending the elders for the rest of the day!"

"What!" Stonepaw gasped. "But I didn't even -"

Tinystar flattened his ears. "Regardless of who started what, you both bore your claws against one another!" he snapped. "You both seem in need of a lesson in respecting your Clanmates!"

Ashpaw said nothing, but his tail lashed. He would fume, Tinystar guessed. They both would. This was not the proper way to handle their fued – but he wouldn't let them hurt themselves over whatever was setting them against one another.

Stonepaw's eyes narrowed. Mistypaw nudged her brother. "Come on, Stonepaw," she said quietly, "you're at fault here, too."

"Was I supposed to just _let_ him claw me?!" Stonepaw hissed back. Mistypaw frowned at his tone.

Tinystar glanced at Ashpaw. He refused to meet Tinystar's eye, grumbling under his breath at Fernpaw as she washed his ear.

"We're heading back," Tinystar meowed strenly. "Now."

* * *

"… and that's how it went," Tinystar finished. "Fernpaw needs more confidence – try and work on that, Oakheart."

"We will," Oakheart meowed. "I think I know just the exercise…"

"You're free to go," Tinystar told the bracken-colored warrior. "But I want to talk to Sandstorm and Dustpelt in private."

Oakheart frowned, but nodded. He padded away, towards Fernpaw. The two spoke for a moment, and then headed out.

Tinystar sighed, turning to his mate and Dustpelt. The brown tabby was clearly annoyed, his tail-tip twitching over the frosty grass of the clearing. He had kep the details of Ashpaw and Stonepaw's fight from Oakheart, wanting to speak with their mentors alone.

"I'm guessing this has to do with why my apprentice is cleaning out the nursery instead of patrolling with Mousefur?" Dustpelt growled. "He needs that experience, Tinystar."

Tinystar raised his tail to calm the dark warrior. "Ashpaw and Stonepaw don't seem to like one another," he meowed. "While they were sparring, claws unsheathed. It seemed like Ashpaw was the aggressor, but…" he looked to Sandstorm, "Stonepaw fought back. What do you two know?"

Dustpelt frowned, glancing at Sandstorm. "I've noticed that Ashpaw doesn't like doing things with Stonepaw, but I didn't think he'd attack his denmate," the tabby admitted.

Sandstorm shrugged. "I had no idea," she added. "I simply thought they had a spat over something small – like denmates tend to."

"It might go deeper than a simple spat," Tinystar warned. "Brindleface's death no doubt still lingers in Ashpaw's mind – Fernpaw gets along with them fine, but Ashpaw…"

"Right," Dustpelt grunted. "I'll make sure Ashpaw doesn't go on holding that grudge."

"You'd better," Sandstorm meowed, "or it could turn into more than just scratches!"

Dustpelt shot her a look. "You have an apprentice to reign in, too, you know," he growled.

"I know…" Sandstorm frowned. "I'm not sure what to do about it yet."

"Talk it over together," Tinystar suggested. "But let's try to keep this between us. There's no need to draw more attention to the issue."

Dustpelt nodded. "I'll be on patrol until sundown. We'll talk then, alright Sandstorm?"

"I'll be here," Sandstorm agreed. "Thanks."

Dustpelt flicked his tail before heading off to join Mousefur on her patrol. The short she-cat looked annoyed about being delayed – she set off at a pace that made the gorse tunnel rock back and forth.

"There's more," Tinystar added, turning to Sandstorm.

Sandstorm's brow pricked. "Oh?"

Tinystar nodded, and then explained to her how he, Graystripe, and Mistypaw had caught Stonepaw out of camp with Sorrelkit. Sandstorm's tail bushed.

"That's where he was?" she hissed. "StarClan help me, Tinystar – do you have these problems with Mistypaw?"

Tinystar shook his head sympathetically. "No. Cloudtail, though…"

"Stonepaw's been hard to work with lately," Sandstorm admitted. Her claw sank into the earth. "Irritable and in the clouds – it feels like his head's in a hundred different places, and not one of them is where he ought to be. What do I do?"

"I don't know," Tinystar meowed. He touched his nose to hers. "All we can do now is be patient, and keep an eye out for an opportunity to talk to him about what's troubling him." His chats with Mistypaw seemed so easy, in comparison – she was definitely more forthcoming than her brother. "But if nothing happens soon, it might mean something bad."

Sandstorm's shoulders sagged. "I just hope we figure it out in time."

Tinystar sighed. "StarClan willing, it can be mended," he meowed.

"He's a good apprentice, Tinystar," Sandstorm insisted. She got to her paws, stretching. "I just… I hate to see him waste his potential in anger."

Tinystar followed her gaze as she looked at her apprentice. He was talking with Mosspaw, his mouth full of moss. His tail was waving gently at his sister – but when he headed for the elders, his tail stilled and his eyes darkened with… something – Tinystar didn't like that look, or how familiar it was to him.

 _Whatever's going on with Stonepaw has roots in ThunderClan's cats,_ Tinystar thought. _It needs to stop… before it's too late._


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

" _Keep an eye out," Mousefur grunted._

Tinystar nodded in agreement, his tail still. Behind him, Mousefur and Graystripe stiffened, their movements poised to leap upon whatever lay beyond the drying fern bed.

The patrol was near Sunningrocks – ThunderClan had barely managed to win after their last altercation with RiverClan over the territory. With Leopardstar and Bluestar in presumed alliance, no Sunningrocks patrol in the past days knew whether or not there would be a fighting force there.

As they pushed through the undergrowth, Tinystar heard Graystripe let out a sigh of relief. The Sunningrocks were empty, with no traces of RiverClan scent on them. The river flowed slowly beyond, the reeds on RiverClan's side crisp and brittle.

"Go renew the markers," Tinystar meowed, looking back at Mousefur and Graystripe. "But keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

Mousefur lashed her short tail, nodding. Graystripe frowned, but followed the dusky brown she-cat around the rocks. Tinystar headed for the water, brushing his pelt against the rocks as he went. _These belong to ThunderClan,_ he thought. _I'll keep it that way._

He crouched near the river, bending to lap at the water. It was cold and clean, tasting only mildly of fish. A ripple of water touched his muzzle, and Tinystar shook the ice cold droplets from his whiskers with a sigh. How could RiverClan get so wet all the time? After all his experiences in the river, Tinystar never wanted to get wet again.

Another splash set Tinystar's spine straight. He peered across the river, frowning, looking for the source – he didn't need to wait long. The waving of brittle reeds barely hid the dappled pelt near the water. A white paw flashed out into the water and, after another noisy splash, hooked a silvery fish from the river.

"Wonderful catch," called Tinystar.

Tawnypelt poked her head from behind the screen of reeds. "Thanks," she called back.

Tinystar watched her tuck her catch away, bending reeds over the sleek bodies of the fish to hide them from predators. Tawnypelt shook out her pelt before she padded along the slope of the shore. Tinystar followed her, noting the quickness of her step.

Tawnypelt slid into the water, her paws churning swiftly as she made her way across the river to where the RiverClan and ThunderClan borders touched, just beyond Sunningrocks. An odd piece of territory, Tinystar thought as he settled himself on the ThunderClan side. What was the point of it?

Still, it let Tawnypelt get close without having to shout across the river. The dappled she-cat waved her tail in greeting, and Tinystar dipped his head. Normally such a meeting would be frowned upon, but Tinystar trusted Tawnypelt.

"How are things?" Tawnypelt wondered, her whiskers still dripping. It didn't seem to bother her. "You're leader now! How are you liking it?"

"Things are going well," Tinystar replied politely. "And leadership is… something to get used to, to be sure. But I think I've finally gotten used to giving orders to cats a head taller than me."

Tawnypelt mrrowed with amusement, her whiskers twitching. "That's good."

"How is RiverClan?" Tinystar wondered. He leaned closer. "You know… how are they doing, knowing the truth about you and Brambleclaw?"

Tawnypelt's eyes flashed. "Well…" she frowned. "It's about how we expected, honestly. Brambleclaw told everyone the truth as soon as we returned. Some cats look at us sideways, but… they don't say anything outright awful to us. I think they know deep down that we're RiverClan, and always have been – Tigerstar being our father or not."

"That's good," Tinystar sighed. "Leopardstar must be furious."

"She was!" Tawnypelt's ears twitched. "But she didn't demote Brambleclaw, and she hasn't done anything yet. She always keeps one eye on us, though. I miss when we used to be more friendly… it used to be so easy to talk to her, but… after this I think we might never be friends again."

Tinystar's heart clenched with sympathy. He knew what it felt to have friendship be dictated by one's origins. "Give her time," he offered. "Maybe she'll come around?"

Tawnypelt shrugged. "I don't know. Anyway… Silverstream's been great – I'm glad we're still friends. She's helped a lot… and Featherpaw and Stormpaw look up to us even more now that the truth is out. I think they like not being the odd ones out anymore."

"That's great!" Tinystar purred. "I'm glad you can support one another."

"The whole half-Clan thing isn't really the main problem, though," Tawnypelt went on, squaring her shoulders. She inched closer to the border, her eyes flashing over the river to look for onlookers. Tinystar frowned. "It's _Bluestar!"_

"Bluestar?!" Tinystar bristled involuntarily.

Tawnypelt nodded, her green eyes burning. "Bluestar used to visit once in a while, before – but now it's like she's living with us! She stayed for three whole nights!"

Tinystar's spine rippled with unease. "That's not right!" he hissed back. "She's got a Clan to look after – what's her aim?"

Tawnypelt shook her head hopelessly. "I have no idea – but get this! When she left, she left a few ShadowClan warriors in our camp! To _stay!_ And Leopardstar _approved_ of this!"

Tinystar's eyes widened. "What?!"

"She said it was to bring our Clans closer together," Tawnypelt explained, "but there's more to it than that, I _know_ it! It's uncomfortable, having those ShadowClan warriors lazing about our camp, eating our fresh-kill and doing nothing but _watch!"_ She shuddered. "I had to get away! I couldn't take it anymore."

A pit of dread opened in Tinystar's stomach.

His expression must have said more than words could, because Tawnypelt nodded at him. "I know," she meowed. "It's just wrong. And beyond that, Brambleclaw and Leopardstar haven't stopped arguing since they arrived. They can't agree on anything! They try to hide it and keep things quiet, but the Clan is starting to take notice."

"Did Brambleclaw say anything about Bluestar and the dogs?" Tinystar wondered.

Tawnypelt's eyes filled with worry. "That's what I wonder," she admitted. "I don't know! If he did, and Leopardstar didn't believe him, then… Bluestar's influence is stronger than we can fight! The Clan will always follow Leopardstar, but Bluestar is…"

"I'm so sorry, Tawnypelt," Tinystar breathed. He couldn't imagine how distressed she was, watching her Clan pull away from her. How much of Leopardstar's disbelief rested in Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt's heritage? _Too much, likely._

"Tawnypelt!"

Tinystar jerked to attention. Graystripe and Mousefur had appeared – Tinystar cursed himself. He'd been too absorbed in talking to Tawnypelt, he'd forgotten about his Clanmates returning. When Graystripe spotted Tawnypelt he rushed for the border, leaving Mousefur to plop down onto her haunches and roll her eyes, grumbling under her breath.

"Hello, Graystripe," Tawnypelt meowed, managing to pull herself together.

Graystripe was a pawstep from the border, his tail high and eyes shining. Tinystar nudged him, pushing the gray warrior back a whisker so that he didn't outright cross. ThunderClan was just beginning to trust him again – he didn't need to come back to camp smelling of RiverClan.

"How is Silverstream? The kits?" Graystripe couldn't keep the begging from his tone. The gray-pelted warrior had always been transparent as Twoleg windows.

"They're doing fine," Tawnypelt meowed. She gave Tinystar a brief, guarded glance. Tinystar understood – she was keeping some details back, to keep Graystripe from being stressed. They didn't need to add a border incident to Tawnypelt's problems. "Featherpaw is a natural swimmer, and Stormpaw is almost as big as Brambleclaw now! Silverstream is proud of them, and she misses you."

Graystripe's eyes shone. "That's great – er, the stuff about the kits, not about Silverstream missing me," he stammered. He shook it off. "Will she be coming to the next Gathering?"

Tawnypelt frowned. "I don't know."

Graystripe faltered, for a moment – but he shrugged it off. "That's okay," he meowed. "I miss her a lot, but I understand. Tell her…"

He struggled for words. Tawnypelt offered, "I'll tell her I saw you," she meowed. "And that you miss her."

Graystripe swallowed. "That… That'll do," he rasped.

Tawnypelt nodded. "I need to be going," she said tightly.

Tinystar met her gaze – sharp, like Tigerstar's. Then she left, slipping into the water like a fish. Tinystar watched her go, worry pricking his pelt like a bramble bush.

"Subtle, Graystripe," Mousefur chided.

Graystripe started. "S-Sorry," he huffed.

Tinystar turned around, watching Mousefur warily. The short-tempered warrior was like to claw Graystripe for that display.

"What's it matter?" she grumbled, her eyes narrowing slightly. "It's only the warrior code!"

Graystripe flinched, but Tinystar stepped forward. "Leave it, Mousefur," he told her. "We need to head back."

Mousefur said nothing as she got to her paws, but she turned her back on Graystripe. Tinystar pressed against his friend, sighing – admittedly, though, as they got their paws back on their familiar trails, Graystripe's loyalty to ThunderClan was not the worry on his mind.

 _ShadowClan warriors in RiverClan's camp… Brambleclaw and Leopardstar fighting…_ Tinystar's head spun with the new information. _Bluestar obviously means to ally ShadowClan and RiverClan together._

 _What will her next move be?_

* * *

Tinystar paused at the entrance to the medicine den. His mind was abuzz with worry, but he could hear some commotion going on inside. As much as he wanted Brackenfur to help ease his mind, he didn't want to interrupt.

 _There's too much on my mind,_ Tinystar thought. _The prophecy, Stonepaw… Bluestar…_

Tinystar settled himself away from the entrance, sitting near Brackenfur's den in the cracked rock. He tried to put it all out of his mind briefly as he watched.

Brackenfur and Mosspaw were with Snowpaw – the white tom had a thorn driven into his pad. Brackenfur was coaching Mosspaw while Snowpaw sat, looking confused. Being deaf, the white tom couldn't hear much of anything, if anything at all – all he could do was wait.

"Be firm," Brackenfur meowed. "Tug hard – you don't want to splinter it."

Mosspaw nodded, fixing a concentrated gaze upon the thorn.

"Give it a lick, first," Brackenfur advised, "to make sure you get a good grip."

Mosspaw obeyed, licking Snowpaw's pad. Tinystar saw her clench her jaws, and the small she-cat jerked her head. A small spurt of blood followed the thorn as it left Snowpaw's pad. Snowpaw himself flinched, whimpering.

"Good job," Brackenfur meowed, waving his tail. "Now quickly, apply the horsetail. Though, next time maybe don't pull so hard."

"Sorry!" Mosspaw breathed, spitting out the thorn. "I'll do better." She rummaged in the leaf pile beside her paws and dabbed a bubble of strong-smelling goop onto Snowpaw's pad. She signed to him with her tail, and Snowpaw perked up, purring unevenly.

Brackenfur nodded, looking proudly at his apprentice. His gaze shifted, spotting Tinystar across the den. Brackenfur got to his paws.

"Out, now, both of you," he ordered. "Tinystar's here to talk to me."

"Of course, Brackenfur!" Mosspaw squeaked. She brushed against Snowpaw. "Come on!" she said, though her companion could not hear her. Snowpaw had no trouble following, however, and soon the two were gone.

Once they were alone, Brackenfur beckoned Tinystar closer. They sat together amongst Brackenfur's herbs, the golden-brown tom's paws shuffling through the leaves.

"I hope you don't mind if I clean up a little," Brackenfur meowed, "Mosspaw got a little eager trying to find the right herb for a thorn."

"That's all right," Tinystar meowed.

The shuffle of leaves filled the air. Brackenfur asked, "So what is it? You're not here to evaluate Mosspaw, I'm sure."

Tinystar took a deep breath. "I'm ready, Brackenfur," he admitted.

Brackenfur paused, and then pushed the leaves away. He settled himself firmly beside Tinystar, meeting his eyes. Tinystar grounded himself in his friend's gaze, desiring nothing but his support as he launched into an explanation of the dream that had haunted him since their trip to the Moonstone.

When he was done, Brackenfur's supportive expression changed to contemplation. He looked down at his paws, his tail-tip twitching as he thought.

"Do you… have any idea what it might mean?" Tinystar wondered. The weight of his worries seemed lighter – but it made him just as anxious to know what Brackenfur was thinking.

"I don't know," Brackenfur breathed. "But… it doesn't mean anything good."

"I figured that out myself."

Brackenfur's tail swished, his eyes filled with worry. "The only 'Lion' I know of is in the elder's stories of LionClan – but no cat knows how true those are." He frowned. "I doubt it has anything to do with Tigerstar, either. Fire and Tiger and Lion… oh Tinystar, this is…"

"I know," Tinystar breathed. "It's downright apocalyptic… and I think it may have something to do with Bluestar. I have a hunch…"

Brackenfur's ear twitched. "Oh?"

"It sickens me to think of it," Tinystar admitted. The thought in his mind had bloomed after his talk with Tawnypelt. "But… 'four will become two' - there are four Clans, Brackenfur. And… I have reason to believe that ShadowClan and RiverClan may be getting closer than is natural to the warrior code."

Brackenfur's eyes widened. "Oh StarClan… Tinystar, I truly hope you're not right. If that's true – the entire balance of the forest could be destroyed!"

Tinystar swallowed.

 _Oh StarClan… help us…_

* * *

"Nothing to report?"

"I thought no news was good news," Whitestorm admitted, settling himself down beside Tinystar.

Tinystar swallowed. "Sorry," he meowed. "I've just… got a bad feeling, Whitestorm."

"That much is obvious," Whitestorm chuckled. "You've had patrols circling the ShadowClan and RiverClan borders for two days, practically telling us to put our noses into their territories despite there being a river and a Thunderpath between either! What are you expecting?"

Tinystar shook his head. "Nothing good," he admitted. He hadn't yet told his deputy about his vision, or his conversation with Brackenfur. After all, what could he actually do to stop ShadowClan and RiverClan forming an alliance? Brambleclaw hadn't managed to convince Leopardstar, after all…

"So, who will be going to the Gathering?"

Tinystar started.

Whitestorm's whiskers twitched. "You've forgotten?" he guessed. "You really are wound up, Tinystar!"

Tinystar swallowed. _A Gathering, so soon?_ It would be his first as ThunderClan's leader. He hadn't even been thinking about it, and he scrambled to decide who ought to go, and what he was even going to say. He tried his best not to let his thoughts get too tangled in his mind.

"Not Mistypaw, Stonepaw, or Mosspaw," he said, finally.

Whitestorm frowned. "That's likely wise – who knows whether or not Bluestar will try to take them."

"We're keeping them," Tinystar said firmly. "But I'm not going to let them get caught up in a fight if one happens."

Whitestorm raised his brow. "It might not be at a Gathering… but we likely will have to fight to keep them in ThunderClan. Are you willing to do that?"

"Of course!" Tinystar bristled. "They were born here – this is where they belong! Bluestar is the one that left them, Whitestorm."

"Okay, okay," Whitestorm sighed. "Calm down, Tinystar."

"Besides…" Tinystar meowed. Some idea had just crept over him. Of _course_ Brambleclaw couldn't convince Leopardstar – what proof could he offer on his own? But if the entirety of ThunderClan backed up what he had said… _Perhaps I_ can _stop it, after all!_ "I have a plan."

"Oh?"

Tinystar turned to his deputy. "I'm going to tell the Clans about Bluestar."

Whitestorm's ears pricked. "A bold move," he admitted. "But who will believe us?"

" _Someone_ has to," Tinystar meowed. "The proof is with all of us! The Clans no doubt wonder why Bluestar left ThunderClan – why not tell them? They need to know how dangerous she is, before she can sink her claws any deeper into the forest."

"There's no guarantee it will work," Whitestorm meowed, concerned.

Tinystar squared his shoulders. "The longer it waits, the more dangerous she becomes. It needs to be said – now, before she can get away with all she's done."

He dug his claws into the earth. He didn't notice the quiver in Whitestorm's eye – he didn't see what Whitestorm saw in him at that moment: vengeance, frustration… anger. Ice-blue eyes sharpened to claws of hatred.

 _By the time I am through… not even ShadowClan will trust Bluestar anymore!_


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

" _Seems like WindClan are the only_ ones here."

Tinystar frowned, looking down the slope and into the clearing. Fourtrees swayed below, their bare oak branches rattling. A carpet of their leaves lay in the Gathering-place below the Great Rock, swept by the wind and browned by the snow.

"If Bluestar doesn't show, that would make things easier," Tinystar admitted. Some part of him wondered how he'd keep his claws from sinking into her fur when he revealed the truth to the other Clans.

Graystripe shifted his weight. "Both ShadowClan and RiverClan aren't here…" he muttered. "I don't like that."

"Nor do I." Tinystar flattened his ears. _What if I'm too late?_ He thought.

He couldn't back down now.

For the first time as leader of ThunderClan, Tinystar raised his tail. He led the way down the slope, his Clanmates streaming down behind him. Sandstorm and Graystripe by his side, Whitestorm at his flank… Tinystar felt pride for his Clan in that fleeting moment, before they crashed into the leaf litter of the clearing and split off.

Tinystar watched his Clanmates mingle with the WindClan cats, the friendliness between their Clans seemingly restored since their last meeting. Sandstorm and Graystripe met up with Morningflower and Onewhisker, and his apprentice Gorsepaw. Mousefur and Longtail went to speak with Webfoot and Runningbrook, along with a young tortoiseshell warrior. Tinystar himself spotted Tallstar on the Great Rock, and moved to join him, passing Whitestorm and Deadfoot along the way.

"Ah, there you are," Tallstar rasped, kinking his tail. Tinystar took the invitation and padded up the Great Rock to sit beside the lean black-and-white tom. "I was wondering when ThunderClan would show."

"Greetings, Tallstar," Tinystar meowed, dipping his head to the senior leader.

Tallstar's muzzle curled with a smile. "I'll be glad to announce your naming," he purred. The eldest of the leaders always welcomed the newest at their first Gathering. Tallstar's eyes gleamed with sorrow. "Tigerstar will be missed."

"He will," Tinystar agreed somberly.

"I think you will make a great leader," Tallstar decided, his eyes flickering over Tinystar. "You're quite young… but ThunderClan needs youth, I think. Sometimes you young cats are just what the forest needs to bring in fresh perspective!"

Tinystar's shoulders bristled at the praise. He was always astonished by how readily Tallstar's friendship towards him came. It felt like ages since he first met the WindClan leader far outside of Clan territories, protecting his Clan from the Twoleg world he'd been thrust into by ShadowClan and Brokentail.

"Experience is valuable, too," he offered.

Tallstar's eye twinkled. "Of course!" he agreed. "Some young cats get their fair share of experience, though – long before they ought to. Make the most of it, Tinystar."

"I will."

Tinystar turned his gaze out to their Clans, mingling below the Great Rock. The elders were off in their own corner, telling stories to a rapt audience of apprentices. Ashpaw was flank-to-flank with a gray-and-white WindClan apprentice, while Fernpaw and Gorsepaw's eyes were wide as the moon. Graystripe and Sandstorm were with a group of young warriors and Onewhisker, while Longtail and Webfoot were sitting together, chatting casually. There was such a calm amongst them all – a unity that the Clans could only experience once a moon.

 _Bluestar wants to shatter it,_ he thought. _She wants to combine ShadowClan and RiverClan into one, likely. Where will that leave the rest of us?_

Tinystar recalled, vaguely, wondering why the Clans could not all become one back when he was but a new apprentice – more kittypet than warrior. Now he understood – the Clans _were_ , in some ways, one. But so many cats and cultures could not hope to coexist together peacefully, not even under the warrior code.

"ShadowClan and RiverClan are late," Tallstar remarked. "The moon is moving."

Tinystar looked up. The sky was marked with some clouds, gathering on the horizon. But the moon still shone bright. "Will they make it at all?" he wondered.

Tallstar's tail twitched. "Time is running out, and there are clouds in the sky," he meowed. "StarClan is anxious."

Tinystar glanced at the WindClan leader, whose long, narrow muzzle was pointed towards the sky. The moonlight pricked at his patched pelt, turning the black patches silver and highlighting his long whiskers.

 _I wonder…_ "Tallstar, what do you think of B-"

"Hold!"

The shout cut Tinystar off. He looked down at the clearing below to see the leaves stirring, the sleek bodies of many cats slipping through the undergrowth on RiverClan's side.

"Ah, there they are," Tallstar breathed.

Tinystar narrowed his eyes. At the head of the pack were Leopardstar and Bluestar, walking shoulder-to-shoulder. Behind them streamed both RiverClan and ShadowClan, intermingled so much that Tinystar knew that they hadn't simply met on the way. Tinystar's heart sank.

 _I'm too late,_ he thought, sharing a dismayed glance with Whitestorm below. _She's done it already._

He looked for any familiar faces in the crowd – but Brambleclaw and Runningnose and Tawnypelt were absent from the throng. No Silverstream or Mosspelt, or even Littlecloud, either. _Mudfur is gone, too,_ Tinystar thought, his heart clenching. _They've left behind any cat who might speak against them!_

Bluestar and Leopardstar leaped up onto the Great Rock immediately. Tinystar was thrust aside as Bluestar pushed her way to the front, gripping the edge of the rock with glittering claws. Tinystar glanced to Leopardstar, but the dappled leader avoided his gaze, her head turned proudly to those gathered below.

"Our apologies for being late," Bluestar called. "Let us begin!"

Tallstar, bewildered, opened his jaws to speak first – as was his right as the eldest leader – but his words never got out.

"Cats of all the Clans," Bluestar meowed, "a great change is coming to the forest!"

Tinystar narrowed his eyes at the sleek blue-gray she-cat, curling his lip. Tallstar, beside him, let out a fretful murmur.

"StarClan has chosen me to be the herald of that change," Bluestar went on, ignoring the murmur of ThunderClan and WindClan in the crowd. Bluestar's head rose, moonlight highlighting her in silver.

"Bluestar, enough," Tinystar meowed roughly. He tried to put himself at her side. "Let us speak!"

Leopardstar thrust her way between them, her tail lashed. "Silence," she growled. "Speak when it's your turn!"

Tallstar's hackles rose, and Tinystar narrowed his eyes at the dappled RiverClan leader. Leopardstar's eyes wavered at Tinystar's hostility – but he kept it at bay. _I_ am _too late! Fox dung!_

"Every Clan in the forest has endured awful tragedy these past seasons," Bluestar called. "Sickness and tyranny in ShadowClan; hunger and flooding in RiverClan; WindClan, forced from their home; fires devoring ThunderClan's forest – and Twolegs, moving in greater and greater numbers as of late."

Bluestar's tail rose. "This is why I was chosen – why Leopardstar and I have formed an alliance. No longer are ShadowClan and RiverClan separate. We are one! We are LionClan!"

Silence descended on the Gathering.

Tinystar could hear the sound of his claws grating against the rock, feel Tallstar's entire body shiver with horror.

The silence did not offend Bluestar. She turned her muzzle towards Tallstar and Tinystar, her blue eyes, for once, bearing a feverish spark. That in itself was unnerving. "We have come tonight to ask WindClan and ThunderClan to join with us! Together, we are strong. Together, as LionClan, nothing will destroy us!"

"Never!" Tallstar was bristling to the ends of his fur. "Bluestar, are you mad? This goes against the warrior code! Against StarClan!"

Bluestar's tail twitched. "Does StarClan stop this meeting?" she wondered. "Do you see clouds covering the moon?"

Tallstar's ears flattened, looking insulted, as if a kit were patronizing him. "WindClan will _never_ join you!"

"Don't be so proud, Tallstar," Bluestar meowed. Her gaze turned to Tinystar. "And you? What say you, new leader of ThunderClan?"

Tinystar bristled, his tail puffing. He could see his ice-blue eyes narrowed to hateful slits in Bluestar's own eyes.

"You know my answer," he hissed, venom in his voice.

Tallstar inched away from him, and Leopardstar gave him space, too. The hostility in Tinystar's voice must have seemed very out of nowhere to them, sudden and sharp like a blow.

Tinystar thrust his way through the gap, shouldering Bluestar aside. He looked down at the shocked and horrified cats below, barely registering their reactions to his gaze, cold as leaf-bare snow.

"Cats of all Clans!" he called. "Hear me!"

Thunder rumbled, closer than any cat realized.

"You know nothing of Bluestar – she is a liar, a traitor and manipulator! Unworthy of her title as ShadowClan's leader!"

Bluestar said nothing behind him.

"You all know nothing of how she left ThunderClan, and the time for silence is over! Cats of all Clans, you have no doubt wondered why Bluestar left ThunderClan – she did not leave peacefully. She was exiled!"

Eyes widened below him.

Lightning flashed.

The first drops of rain pattered against Tinystar's pelt.

"I ask you to listen to me!" Tinystar called. "Bluestar has crimes to answer for -"

The sky broke into a downpour, darkening to blackness.

A flash of lightning streaked through the sky, shocking the cats below.

Bluestar thrust her way to the edge of the Great Rock, crowing, "StarClan has made their will known! This Gathering is over!"

Tinystar hissed at her closeness, his limbs trembling with the urge to claw her right then and there. StarClan's will? _You have no right to speak of StarClan's will!_

Bluestar thrust her muzzle towards Tinystar. "You and Tallstar have until next moon to decide your Clan's fates," she hissed, bearing her teeth. "LionClan will reign in the forest, Tinystar. There is nothing you can do to stop me."

"Watch me," Tinystar hissed back, crouching to spring. "You've never hidden behind StarClan before, Bluestar – when the truth comes out, there will be nowhere for you to hide."

Bluestar's eyes flashed. She pulled away, raising her tail. Together, Bluestar and Leopardstar fled the Gathering – leaping off of the Great Rock and gathering LionClan around them. They disappeared into the undergrowth, leaving ThunderClan and WindClan to huddle in the cold downpour.

"This does not bode well," breathed Tallstar. The leggy old warrior stood beside Tinystar. "Whatever lies between you and Bluestar… I do not trust this LionClan. WindClan will not join."

"Nor will ThunderClan," Tinystar meowed. If he had the time, he would have told Tallstar everything – but the old warrior was thin and sodden, shivering. "Go, Tallstar. ThunderClan is with you in this dark hour."

Tallstar nodded, his eyes flashing gratefully. He leaped down from the Great Rock in a single bound, raising his long, thin tail to his Clanmates. WindClan gathered around him, ushering him towards the moors.

Tinystar made his way carefully down the Great Rock, not wanting to slip. _My first Gathering, and the forest practically splits apart!_ He thought. _Wonderful._

Sandstorm and Whitestorm met him at the base of the Great Rock. Brackenfur pushed through the ThunderClan cats to join them. The rain began to ease off, the squall losing its temper.

"We need to go home," Tinystar meowed.

"What are we going to do?" Sandstorm breathed, her eyes wild. "StarClan stopped you from speaking!"

Tinystar frowned, glancing at Brackenfur. The golden-brown tom looked shaken, his pelt clinging wetly to his body. He had no answer yet.

"Deadfoot smelled trouble," Whitestorm admitted. His sandy yellow eyes were exhausted. "He told me that RiverClan and ShadowClan scents were clustered around RiverClan's borders. Tallstar had planned to question them about it tonight."

"Well, Tallstar has his answer," Tinystar sighed. He nodded to Whitestorm. "Lead on."

Whitestorm nodded, turning and calling ThunderClan together with a strong, wise tone. Tinystar nudged Sandstorm along, wanting nothing more than to press himself into her fur, drenched or not.

"Brackenfur."

The golden-brown tom halted, looking back.

Whiskers dripping, Tinystar meowed, "We know what the Lion is now."

Brackenfur's eyes flashed. "Yes…" he breathed, "you're right. But what of the rest? The Tiger that will meet them, or the Fire?"

Tinystar shook his head. "I know not," he meowed gravely. "But time is running out."


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 _The storm gave way to the_ night sky by the time ThunderClan returned to their camp. The forest dripped with cold rain, the air too cold for the ground below. Mist gathered at the base of the trees, making the Gathering party take their steps slowly.

By the time they entered camp, the mist had cleared but for the smog at the very edges of the camp. Oakheart waited in the clearing, with the warriors left behind. All eyes were on the Gathering party, full of concern and ominous worry.

"What happened?" Oakheart asked almost immediately. "The rain… was the Gathering interrupted?"

"Yes," Tinystar meowed, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. He'd walked beside Brackenfur in silence, knowing the dampness made his friend's leg sore and slowed him down.

He did not step on the Highrock – he didn't need to. His Clanmates were already gathered around him. Tinystar raised his voice and explained what had happened at the Gathering. The Clan listened in slience, eyes stretching wide.

Oakheart was bristling, fury in his eyes. "Bluestar would never share power!" he spat. "How _dare_ she!"

Tinystar sighed through his teeth, his breath misting before his muzzle. Sometimes he wondered if Oakheart hated Bluestar more than he did – after all, they had been mates, once. Bluestar had gone too far in using him, likely never loving him at all. It had broken poor Oakheart's heart.

"Did the storm _really_ mean StarClan stopped you from saying any more?" Ashpaw asked. "They can't have wanted that, you know?"

Tinystar frowned as his Clanmates murmured around him. He glanced at Brackenfur.

The golden-brown tom was sitting calmly amidst the chaos, his tail-tip flicking against the moist earth. "There are times when a storm is just a storm," he meowed calmly. "But I don't think that was the case here."

Tinystar frowned, his tail lowering. "What do you mean?"

"There are many ways to interperet signs," Brackenfur admitted. "I don't think it was a storm meant to stop you, Tinystar. I think StarClan meant to send a different message – that Bluestar's actions are going to bring chaos to the forest. A storm of mourning, for all that Bluestar will try to destroy."

Tinystar sighed, nodding. "I see," he meowed. "It changes little, though. We can't hope to defeat LionClan on our own – we'll need to keep a close eye on them. I have no doubt that they'll try to attack us when we don't agree to join them."

He turned to Whitestorm. "I want patrols to go to the RiverClan and ShadowClan borders. See where LionClan seems to be gathering itself. If we know where the brunt of their forces are, it will help our preparations in the long run."

Whitestorm nodded. "Agreed – this is not a foe we can fight in ignorance."

"I'll go," Cloudtail meowed, raising her tail. She glanced at her mates in turn. "Some ShadowClan fur to line our nest sounds just fine to me."

"As if your nest needs to get any bigger!" hissed Dustpelt.

Cloudtail rolled her eyes at her denmate.

Whitestorm gathered the warriors, organizing them into patrols with Oakheart stepping in to help. It wasn't long before the first patrol was sent out, Cloudtail in the lead. The rest of the Clan seemed content with all they could do for now. Still, they seemed fretful, worried for their own lives.

"Will it ever end?" Tinystar wondered to Brackenfur.

"It won't end until Bluestar is dead," Brackenfur said frankly.

* * *

Tinystar ducked beneath a swipe, air brushing between his ears. He lashed out with a paw in return, and met air as Mistypaw swept out of the way.

He regained his footing as Mistypaw assessed the situation. He saw her bunch her muscles to spring, but he was well prepared for the attack as she hesitated. Mistypaw's paws hit the sand, and Tinystar tapped his paws against her flanks.

Mistypaw let out a hiss of frustration, spinning on her paws to strike at Tinystar – but her motions were predictable and poorly planned, and Tinystar was able to duck beneath them easily. He butted his head against his apprentice's side and pushed her away.

"Enough," Tinystar decided, raising his tail to signal the end of their session.

Mistypaw halted, confused – and then she flopped onto her haunches, staring down at her paws.

"You started out well enough," Tinystar meowed, "but you've clearly grown more distracted. What's on your mind?"

Mistypaw dragged one of her paws through the dust. "Would it really be so bad if we joined LionClan?"

Tinystar frowned. He was more than used to talking with his apprentice about things like this – Mistypaw had a lot of conflict in her heart when it came to her mother and the things she was doing. The entire Clan was buzzing about the news from the Gathering the day before, like a cicada in greenleaf.

"It would," Tinystar told her with certainty. "ThunderClan would lose their individuality amongst the other Clans – we'd lose what makes us ThunderClan."

"But we'd all be working together," Mistypaw reasoned. "That wouldn't matter, would it?"

Tinystar's tail twitched. "That's possible, yes – but not with Bluestar as a leader."

"But you'd all be leading together!"

"No, we wouldn't," Tinystar reminded her firmly. "Bluestar would never give up power to another – you can bet your next meal that she and Leopardstar are not true equals. And do you think that Bluestar would be able to treat me and many other ThunderClan cats without bias?"

Mistypaw's shoulders sank.

"The Clans are bound together by the warrior code," Tinystar went on, "and our faith in StarClan. We come together in crisis, but it's not in the four Clans to be one. We thrive off of one another – the rivalry compels us to grow stronger in newer ways. We have our own traditions and ways of looking at the world we live in. Mixing all of that together would be chaos."

"But she _is_ right…" Mistypaw pointed out quietly. "The forest has seen so much conflict…"

"It has," Tinystar agreed, "but it has seen even more conflict than what's going on now, I'm sure. And more conflict will ensue in the future. It's inevitable. The Clans have endured as four, not as one."

Mistypaw frowned. "I suppose…"

Tinystar touched his muzzle to the top of her head. "I'm sorry that you need to think about these things."

Mistypaw didn't reply.

Tinystar was about to suggest they continue with the training in order to keep Mistypaw's mind off of her troubling thoughts when Sandstorm appeared, pushing her pale body through the dry bracken. She looked cross, her tail whipping back and forth and her pale green eyes hard.

"Sandstorm!" Tinystar called. Mistypaw's head perked up. "What is it?"

"Have you seen Stonepaw?" Sandstorm asked, "I thought he might be here."

Tinystar shook his head, confused. "No, not today."

Sandstorm's tail lashed. "He must have gone out before dawn again," she sighed. Her gaze turned on Mistypaw. "Do you know where he went?"

Mistypaw shook her head. "I'm sorry, no."

Sandstorm sighed with frustration. "He's been so scattered lately! How am I supposed to train him when he doesn't even show up?"

Tinystar stretched, digging his claws into the earth. "We can help you look, Sandstorm – a run through the forest doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"Thanks," Sandstorm breathed, her eyes warming. "I really appreciate-"

Stonepaw crashed through the bracken just then, panting. "Sorry I'm late!" Bits of dead leaf were caught in his pelt, as if he'd gone full tilt through the forest to get here. He didn't look at Sandstorm, dipping his head in apology.

Sandstorm's eyes widened. "Where have you been?" she scolded. "We were supposed to go out at sunhigh!"

"I'm sorry!" Stonepaw repeated, bristling. "W-We can go! Right now!"

Sandstorm rolled her eyes, guiding her apprentice with her tail. "Fine! Come on, then. Sorry to bother you, Tinystar."

Tinystar's ear flicked awkwardly. Beside him, Mistypaw shifted on her paws. "It's all right," he offered to Sandstorm. "I'll see you later."

They were gone a moment later, the dried fronds of bracken falling still in their wake. Tinystar sighed, his tail stilling. Mistypaw's whiskers twitched, her expression otherwise unreadable.

"I… guess we'll get back to training," Tinystar decided.

"I guess."

The two cats repositioned themselves. Tinystar circled his apprentice, trying to put aside Stonepaw's strange behavior… and the strange scent he'd brought with him. But it nagged at him until Tinystar had to try and place it.

 _That scent… it's from near the river,_ Tinystar realized, taking a deep breath. _Why would he be on the other side of the territory?_

His thoughts earned him a smack on the head and a smug purr from Mistypaw.

" _Now_ who's distracted?" she mewed.

Tinystar shoved the thought away and pounced, growling, "You cheek! Take this!"

* * *

Tinystar stretched, arcing his spine. His training session with Mistypaw had gone well, though thoughts of Stonepaw's whereabouts had gotten him distracted more than once. Mistypaw's training was coming along well – she was growing out of her need to plan every move, just a little. Tinystar had a feeling that might be something that stayed with her forever.

 _It's not a bad thing,_ he told himself. _She might just end up turning herself in circles when she needs to strike immediately…_

He'd sent Mistypaw off hunting. He trusted her to stay away from dangerous areas, glad that she wasn't much like Cloudtail had been. Tinystar had no worries about her sneaking off to Twoleg nests or rooting around Snakerocks, which the Clan was still very wary of.

As if his thoughts had summoned her, Cloudtail appeared, padding through the undergrowth with her mates. Brightheart and Swiftfoot were padding confidently beside her, tails up. Their positioning was such that Cloudtail was covering Brightheart's blind spot, even if she didn't realize what she was doing.

"Hey! There you are!" she crowed.

"Oh?" Tinystar chirped back. "Did you want me?"

"A leader's work is never done," sighed Brightheart sympathetically.

Cloudtail's tail swished. "I was going to ask if you'd like to assess these two."

Tinystar's ears pricked.

Cloudtail beamed. "These two have gotten so much better! I want you to see how well their training is going."

Tinystar glanced at Brightheart and Swiftfoot. "Is that alright with you?" he wondered. "It'd be quick." He had to admit, he was very curious about how Cloudtail had gone about teaching them. Their disabilities would make an interesting challenge for any mentor.

Swiftfoot grinned. "I think I can take him."

"I suppose," Brightheart agreed.

Tinystar raised his tail. "Come on, then!"

To his shock, both cats charged at him – Brightheart, swift as a snake, and Swiftfoot like a protective badger. Tinystar was able to duck under Swiftfoot's first blow, but he was struck by Brightheart in the side.

Tinystar turned to try and attack Brightheart, going for her blind side – but she was dancing around his blows, always keeping him in sight. Tinystar earned a cuff over the ears for his troubles, and paws on his flanks pulled him back towards Swiftfoot.

 _His tail is gone,_ Tinystar thought. He wiggled out from beneath Swiftfoot's paws, putting on speed to dodge and weave and unbalance the tom – but Swiftfoot stayed put, his paws planted until he made his move… and what a move he made.

Quick as a flash Swiftfoot darted out with a paw, catching one of Tinystar's hind legs. The blow wasn't painful, but it was sharp enough to throw Tinystar off and send him crashing to the sandy floor on his belly.

Cloudtail sat smugly before him, her tail kinked with pride. "Not so easy, eh?" she purred.

"Not at all," breathed Tinystar, stunned.

"Well?" Swiftfoot asked. "How'd we do?"

"Can we be warriors again?" Brightheart wondered.

Tinystar got to his paws, shaking sand out of his fur. He tested his hind leg, finding that it wasn't injured. "I want to make absolute sure you two can handle yourselves… but you'll be warriors in no time at this rate!"

Cloudtail's chest puffed. "See?" she mewed, "I told you two you were doing great!"

Tinystar beamed at his niece. "You're going to be one of the best mentors in the Clan at this rate," he sighed.

"As if her pride needs any more boosting," Swiftfoot grunted. "But you're right, Tinystar – Cloudtail's taught us so much."

"Mostly how to be creative," Brightheart added. "How to use other cats' first impressions of us as a weapon of our own."

"Well, it worked," Tinystar admitted. "Your innovative ideas are going to revolutionize ThunderClan's battle training if this keeps up!"

Swiftfoot nodded, his eyes calm and sharp. "Any cat can be injured," he meowed, "it shouldn't stop them from holding onto their place in their Clan."

Tinystar's tail twitched at the determination in Swiftfoot's stare, at the confidence that lit up Brightheart's eye. Cloudtail had helped these two cats so much in bolstering their confidence in themselves.

 _When they're warriors again, they're like to be ThunderClan's strongest! LionClan will need to keep their eyes open…_

* * *

"I'm _starving!"_

"You're always starving," joked Tinystar.

Graystripe rolled his eyes.

Tinystar nudged his friend apologetically. He hadn't meant to poke fun – Graystripe was a heavy eater, and the thinning of prey would affect him foremost. What prey remained in the forest after the dogs was taking to burrow, and hunting was becoming harder far quicker than Tinystar had anticipated in the days since the Gathering.

"Have you two picked up anything?" he asked, turning his head back.

Mousefur shook her head. Longtail lamented, "Not a whisker!"

The patrol was near the training hollow, trying in vain to catch the prey unawares. The crackle of frost on the leaves made stealth harder than normal, and the cold snap in the air felt like it was here to stay. Tinystar willed the snows to wait, but he knew he couldn't control the weather.

"I could catch us some fish," Graystripe pointed out.

Mousefur turned up her nose. "Eugh," she scoffed.

"That's a bad idea, Graystripe," Longtail pointed out. "River-er, sorry, _LionClan_ has claim to the river. We'd be shredded."

Tinystar grimaced. Longtail was right – in the days since the Gathering their patrols had discovered that while a small amount of cats still lived in ShadowClan's territory across the Thunderpath, the bulk of LionClan was living in what was RiverClan's territory. It was too close for Tinystar's liking.

"I'll check by the stream," Tinystar suggested. "You go on ahead, Mousefur. I'll catch up."

Mousefur nodded, raising her tail. The patrol followed her through the frosty forest. Tinystar turned his attention – and paws – towards the stream. He made special effort to be quiet, knowing that his black pelt would already be a huge tell to potential prey.

A rustle caught his ear – a blackbird, pecking through the leaf-litter.

Tinystar crept as quietly as he could, but a snap in the treetops startled the bird, causing it to take flight. Tinystar cursed.

 _At least there's prey here to miss,_ he thought.

Tinystar straightened his back and headed for the stream, punching a hole through the thin ice sheet formed over the water before bending down to drink.

A sharp orange light startled him, causing him to leap back from the stream with a hiss of shock. He dug his claws into the hardening earth, eyes wide, as the stream was suddenly alive with flames.

Tinystar opened his mouth to cry out – _Fire! Again! StarClan, help us!_ – but the words died in his throat as the flames rippled, changed… took shape. A massive cat's head appeared in the flickering light, opening its great jaws into a silent roar as the flames licked jagged stripes across its face.

 _Stripes?_ He thought. _It's a tiger!_

"Do you see now, Tinystar, what you must do?"

The voice startled Tinystar, but the scent of the cat that appeared at his side calmed him.

"Redtail?" Tinystar whispered. Redtail had never appeared like this before.

The small tom dipped his head to Tinystar. His dappled pelt was like mist, his red tail shimmering with the fire's light.

"Take heed," he meowed, "what you have seen is very important, Tinystar."

Tinystar looked through him to the fire, to the roaring tiger. Already it was beginning to fade… but Tinystar could see something in it he hadn't before. The tiger's face…

It was _his_ face.

"I'm the Tiger," he whispered.

Redtail did not reply – but the strength of his gaze told Tinystar that he was right. The dappled tom dipped his head before disappearing, not waiting for Tinystar to protest.

Tinystar swallowed, watching the flames die and the image fade. He felt no fear, no – but he wasn't sure how to describe what he _was_ feeling. Never had he seen anything like this.

 _I am the Tiger,_ he thought.

He looked down at his paws. One black, one white.

 _If there is a LionClan… there must be a TigerClan…_

 _And I am its leader._


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

" _So that's what you saw?"_

Tinystar nodded. "It was bizarre – unlike anything I've ever seen before." His paws still trembled when he thought of the wall of flames, of his face morphing into a striped tiger.

The medicine den was quiet and empty but for Tinystar and Brackenfur. Mosspaw had been sent outside when Tinystar had rushed back to camp, leaving his patrol to finish their hunting trip. There was just no ignoring the urgency of that message.

" _I_ am the Tiger," Tinystar murmured hesitantly. "It's me." It seemed fitting, like Tigerstar were still apart of him somehow.

Brackenfur nodded. "It seems to be. Lion means LionClan, and Tiger means you… the pieces are falling into place."

"But what is Fire?" Tinystar wondered. "Have you had any idea?"

Brackenfur shook his head. "I know not. Tigerstar once mentioned to me that he was called fire, by a medicine cat long before me, but that doesn't apply to this. This Fire is _your_ test, part of _your_ destiny. That much is clear."

Tinystar shuffled his paws. "A test…" He swallowed. Brackenfur had once mentioned that Tigerstar's suffering, his lack of faith in their warrior ancestors, was his test. If this was truly Tinystar's test, it was clear it would shake him to his core, at the very least. If not kill him.

"If the Lion is LionClan," Brackenfur repeated, his tone thoughtful, "and Tiger is you… then the Fire may be some other party we don't know."

Tinystar started at the thought. "Another party?"

Brackenfur shrugged hopelessly. "Some other cat, or group of cats... maybe LionClan and you, the Tiger, will join together to defeat it? Maybe Fire will sweep through the forest after a battle between Tiger and Lion? I…" he broke off with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Tinystar – I just don't know."

Tinystar murmured sympathetically. Brackenfur placed a lot of pride, even if he denied it, in his connection to StarClan and his ability to follow their will. To not fully understand a prophecy this major would no doubt upset him.

"I just want peace," Tinystar breathed. "For all this to end…"

Brackenfur touched his nose to Tinystar's. "I know," he meowed. "So do I, my friend. This test is clearly going to be the culmination of your destiny, possibly the very reason you came to the forest in the first place, those seasons ago. _Even the tiniest cat can change everything_ – Yellowfang told me that once, and now I know… she must have been speaking of you."

Tinystar flattened an ear. "Another prophecy? Around me?" He chuckled half-heartedly. "Too many more of these and I'll _have_ to be a medicine cat."

Brackenfur didn't chuckle back, but he did give half a smirk at the thought. "You'd be terrible," he decided.

"Now, that's not fair!" Tinystar huffed.

Brackenfur mrrowed with amusement, butting his head against Tinystar's shoulder, a gesture full of affection. "No," he decided, "your destiny is not to sort leaves or dole out poultices – it's to change the forest, for good. That much is clear."

Tinystar blinked at his friend, grateful for his uplifting words and his place by Tinystar's side. Where would he be without Brackenfur, so solid and dependable? Despite all the unknowns, Tinystar felt much better.

On his way out of the medicine cat's den, Tinystar ran into Mosspaw.

"You two are done talking?" the patched she-cat asked, eyes wide. "It must be really important, if you wanted to be alone."

"We are," Tinystar meowed as the leafless fern stems scraped against his back. He paused before the gray-and-white she-cat. "I'd like to speak with you, actually – before you go back inside."

Mosspaw worked her paws into the hard earth. "Of course," she meowed. She sounded confident, but her pale eyes shimmered with a bit of hesitation. It was, after all, the first conversation she'd ever had with her leader – at least that Tinystar could recall. "What is it?"

"I need to know how you and your littermates are doing. I've heard some… things," Tinystar stated. "Has any cat been bothering you, Mosspaw?"

Mosspaw's tail twitched. "Well, no," she admitted. "Some cats give me funny looks when they think I'm not paying attention, and I catch the elders occasionally hushing up real quick when I appear with their medicine – but that's about it for me." She shrugged. "Being a medicine cat apprentice means cats don't really feel right gossiping or being mean to you."

"I see," Tinystar mused. _Lucky._ "What have you noticed about Mistypaw or Stonepaw? I've spoken to them myself but obviously I can't always get the full picture. I need to know how I can help them adjust to life in ThunderClan."

"Well, Mistypaw gets frustrated sometimes," Mosspaw meowed earnestly, her tail twining, "but she always gets a little upset when things don't go the way she thinks they should. I've always been able to calm her down when some cat says something snide. But Stonepaw…"

Tinystar frowned. "Yes?"

Mosspaw looked away. "Stonepaw lets things stew and hides them. He's harder to read, and even harder for any cat to console. I'm really worried about him."

Tinystar touched his nose to her forehead. "I understand," he meowed gently. "I'll try talking to him and seeing what I can do."

Mosspaw nodded eagerly. "Thanks, Tinystar!" she purred. "I'm so worried about them, honestly – I don't have all the time in the world on my paws! Brackenfur needs me to help him and I can't always be their shoulder to lean on, even if I want to be. It's hard having littermates!"

"Go on," Tinystar told her, nodding to the medicine cat den. "I'll see what I can do."

Mosspaw stepped away, purring. Tinystar turned himself towards the clearing, taking a deep breath of the chill air before setting out to look for Stonepaw. He didn't recall Whitestorm assigning the apprentice to any patrols that morning, which meant that he was either in camp or with Sandstorm.

 _If he hasn't run off without her again, that is,_ Tinystar thought. He could only imagine Sandstorm's temper flaring – his had been tested many times by Cloudtail when she had been at her most rebellious.

He had to do something about Stonepaw soon – Tinystar had a creeping suspicion that time was running out when it came to him. Something was going to happen, and Tinystar just wished he knew what it was. _If I was deputy, or even a warrior, I might have more time to figure this out,_ he thought sadly. _But I'm leader, and so many things require my attention... it's hardly been a quarter moon and it feels like so much is falling through my claws!_

The last thing he wanted was for his own cats to think him a stranger.

Tinystar peered across the clearing, opening his jaws to scent the air. Stonepaw's scent crossed his glands, but it was faint. He idly padded past the apprentice's den, taking a quick glance inside – but all he saw was Ashpaw, sleeping off his watch the night before. Stonepaw's scent was stale in his nest, which was almost merged with Mistypaw's off to the side.

Worry mounted in Tinystar's chest. Wherever Stonepaw was, he'd been gone a while.

"Tinystar!"

Willowpelt's voice pulled Tinystar out of the apprentice's den. The queen was coming from the dirtplace, her tail fluffed and eyes wide with worry.

"What is it?" Tinystar wondered, detecting fear-scent coming from the pale gray she-cat.

Willowpelt's whiskers were at ends. "Have you seen Sorrelkit? I went out hunting with Cinderpelt earlier to stretch my legs but when I came back, Frostfur said that Sorrelkit had disappeared! We can't find her anywhere, and Rainkit and Sootkit don't know where she went!"

Tinystar flattened his ears. "Calm down, Willowpelt – where have you searched?"

"All the dens," Willowpelt reported. "A-And the dirtplace. I caught a trace of her scent near the camp entrance but it was stale! Oh, StarClan…" The pale queen's sides heaved with her panicked breathing. "Where _is_ she?"

Tinystar rested his tail along her shoulders. "We'll find her," he decided.

Willowpelt sniffled. "I hope so," she breathed. "I just k-keep thinking… what if the dogs aren't gone? Or a badger finds her? She's so much like a little Tigerstar, sticking her nose in everything and being brave…"

"Tell Oakheart to send a search party. I'll be heading out towards Sunningrocks myself." Tinystar scanned the clearing. "Mistypaw!" he called.

Mistypaw turned to face him from the elder's den, where she had been adjusting the lichen that draped over the hollow log. Her ears perked, and she immediately stopped what she was dong to pad over to his side.

"Yeah?" she wondered, glancing at Willowpelt. "What is it?"

"We're going to look for Sorrelkit," Tinystar told her.

Mistypaw's tail bushed. "So that's what the fuss was?" she mewed. She turned to Willowpelt. "I'm so sorry – if Dappletail hadn't been talking my ear off, I would have helped you!"

"It's all right, little one," Willowpelt offered.

Mistypaw nodded to Tinystar. "Ready when you are!"

"Keep your nose sharp," Tinystar told her. "Kits aren't mouse-brained. If Sorrelkit didn't want to be found, she'd try just about anything to make it so."

"Understood."

Tinystar turned to Willowpelt. "We'll find her," he told her. "Don't worry."

Willowpelt nodded hesitantly, and Tinystar knew it would take more than words to reassure a queen missing her kittens. Tinystar raised his tail and led Mistypaw through the gorse tunnel and into the forest, setting their paws on the path to Sunningrocks.

 _She went there before…_ he thought. _She might have gone back._

A feeling of unease settled in his belly as he recalled Stonepaw and Sorrelkit appearing from the forest from Sunninrocks' way, arguing and bristling with one another, and Sorrelkit insisting that Stonepaw shouldn't have been doing… something. What that was, Tinystar didn't know.

 _Perhaps Stonepaw is there, too… and I'll get my answers._

* * *

"Tinystar, I think I've got it."

Tinystar pricked his ears. He emerged from the tangle of brambles, grimacing as thorns tugged at his pelt. Mistypaw was beside a clump of flattened bracken, her tail-tip flicking back and forth. She gestured at the bracken with her paw.

Sorrelkit's scent was there – faint, but there. Tinystar breathed it in. A tiny paw print stamped down the bracken stems, hidden inside an even bigger paw print that smelled faintly of… Stonepaw.

Tinystar frowned, glancing at Mistypaw. Had she scented her brother?

 _I don't like this,_ he thought, glancing around. They were on the trail to Sunningrocks – Tinystar could see the pale stones looming through the sparse leaf-bare forest ahead. His patrols had reported that many cats were living and patrolling the river now – LionClan. It would be very dangerous for a ThunderClan cat – and kit – to be anywhere near LionClan territory.

"Do you smell Stonepaw?" he asked.

Mistypaw frowned. She bent and sniffed the bracken again. "Y-Yes," she admitted. "Very faint, though." She looked at Tinystar with wide eyes.

Tinystar raised his tail and led the way. Sorrelkit's scent was faint, stumbling over stones and tree roots. The kit had little experience traversing the forest. Stonepaw's fainter scent lay beneath, winding through the forest just off of the usual paths the warriors took. Both Mistypaw and Tinystar increased their pace, worry pricking their pelts.

Together they broke through the treeline and into Sunningrocks, gravel and stones scattering beneath their paws. Tinystar dropped low, ordering Mistypaw to do the same with a flick of his tail. They crept behind one of the stones, peering around the side.

Sorrelkit was with Stonepaw, near the top of the slope that led down to the riverbank. Stonepaw's spine was bristling – the gray tom was clearly frustrated. Sorrelkit was bouncing on her paws, her eyes blazing.

"For the last time – get back to camp!" Stonepaw snapped. "Leave me alone, kit!"

Sorrelkit thrust her muzzle into his face. "Stop treating me like I'm a mouse-brain!" she hissed. " _You're_ the one that needs to head back to camp! _You're_ the one that sneaks out all the time!"

Mistypaw trembled beside Tinystar. He soothed her with a flick of his tail against her flank.

"Shut up!" Stonepaw hissed, clearly flustered with the kit. "Do you have any idea how much _trouble-_ "

Tinystar stood. He padded around the rock, revealing himself to Stonepaw and Sorrelkit.

Stonepaw shut his jaws. His eyes widened as Mistypaw followed Tinystar out from behind the rock.

"T-Tinystar!" Sorrelkit stammered, falling to her haunches in shock.

"M-Mistypaw?" Stonepaw wondered. "What're you doing here?"

"We came to find you, you mouse-brain!" Mistypaw gasped, bristling. "What do you think you're doing, sneaking out like this?! LionClan is just across that river!"

Stonepaw flattened his ears crossly. "I can take care of myself!" he snapped, his blue eyes blazing. "Stop trying to _mother_ me!"

Mistypaw flinched, her eyes flashing hopelessly.

"I don't know what's going on here," Tinystar growled, eyeing Stonepaw. Inwardly he cursed, knowing that there was no way he could easily confront Stonepaw with Sorrelkit here, too. From the scent of things, Stonepaw had been here often the past half moon or so, which was an alarming thought. "But it's stopping. You are both heading back to camp. Immediately."

Stonepaw shrank beneath Tinystar's icy gaze. But he got to his paws and padded past, heading back on the trail that would take them back to camp. Sorrelkit followed, her tail dragging in the dirt. Tinystar squared his shoulders and followed behind, Mistypaw padding silently by his side.

* * *

Sandstorm paced before Tinystar, bristling. "I'm so -! I am at my whisker's end with him, Tinystar, I swear!" she hissed.

Tinystar frowned. "How often has he disappeared?" he asked. They were in the shade of the Highrock, away from prying ears – though many ears had pricked at the sight of Tinystar returning with not just Sorrelkit, but Stonepaw. Willowpelt was giving her kitten a thorough washing and scolding over near the nursery and Stonepaw was sulking outside the apprentice's den, where Tinystar ordered he stay until he was done speaking to Sandstorm.

"Too often!" Sandstorm snapped. "Sometimes in the mornings, sometimes in the evenings – but almost always when I need him for something! StarClan help me!"

"He needs to be kept in line," Tinystar told her firmly. He knew his mate could handle his words. "But we can't go overboard. Too much hassling and he's like to bolt, or take out his frustrations on his Clanmates. We need to find a way to talk to him that won't set him off."

Sandstorm's tail lashed. "I've tried!" she admitted. "He won't talk to me! Or anyone, it seems."

Tinystar shook his head hopelessly. "I wish I knew what started this behavior…" he breathed. "If I did…"

"I'm sure some cat or another said something they didn't mean," Sandstorm told him. "Or Ashpaw was being a bully – but there's only so much we can do about anything like that." She stopped pacing to rest her muzzle on his forehead. "I'm frustrated, but I know that we can't do everything."

Tinystar was grateful for the gesture.

"Sorrelkit keeps sneaking out to follow him," Tinystar pointed out.

"Maybe she knows what he's really doing when he leaves?" Sandstorm guessed. "We ought to talk to her."

"Agreed."

Tinystar waved his tail to catch Willowpelt's attention. It took a moment, but the queen finally acknowledged him with a tilt of her head. She ushered Sorrelkit away, pushing her towards Tinystar. Sorrelkit plodded over, head and tail low.

"I'm sorry, Tinystar," Sorrelkit mewed apologetically, not meeting Tinystar's eyes. "I won't do it again."

"Sorrelkit, I need you to tell us what you've noticed with Stonepaw," Tinystar insisted. "Why do you keep following him?"

Sorrelkit raised her head, flattening her ears. "Uh… well, I mean… I was just curious about where he was going. When he went off, it was always alone. Cats don't normally do that. So I wanted to see what he was up to."

"And what _was_ he up to?" Sandstorm urged.

Sorrelkit shrugged. "He just goes over to Sunningrocks and sits there a while, staring across the river. Sometimes there's another cat that he talks to, but I stay out of sight…" She twitched her white ear. "It's hard to hear, so I just watch."

Sandstorm shared a look with Tinystar, whose tail was winding with worry. _Meeting another cat across the river… it could only be a LionClan cat! But which one?_

"What did this cat look like?" he wondered.

Sorrelkit shook her head. "I don't really know… they hide well. I usually just see their tail, or their muzzle. They've got a darker pelt, though."

Tinystar kneaded the earth. _I've a few thoughts on who that might be,_ he thought grimly. _Likely the only other cat in LionClan other than Bluestar who would care about Stonepaw… Darkstripe._

Sandstorm's expression betrayed that she was having the same thought.

Tinystar leaned close to Sorrelkit. "Sorrelkit – you shouldn't have gone out of camp and worried your mother like that – but next time you see Stonepaw leave camp, I want you to let us know, okay? We'll track him down together, and figure out what this is all about."

Sorrelkit's eyes shone. "Really?"

Tinystar nodded. "You can tell Willowpelt, okay, but _just_ her – and she needs to know that this is a secret mission, okay?"

Sorrelkit's head was a blur of nodding.

"Good," Sandstorm praised. "Now, go on. And be sure to do whatever Willowpelt tells you to do! You still snuck off without permission!"

Sorrelkit didn't seem to care. She pelted across camp to her mother, tail up. Willowpelt looked shocked that her daughter didn't seem at all chastised, even looking disbelievingly at Tinystar over her kit. But Sorrelkit caught her attention again and bent her ear, no doubt telling her about her "mission".

Sandstorm heaved a sigh. "I hope that was the right thing to do," she breathed.

Tinystar got to his paws, pressing his pelt against his mate's. "I don't know if it was. Look at him – he's upset. Whatever we uncovered, he's likely to be more careful from now on."

"I just hope that he stops going altogether."

Tinystar watched Mistypaw approach Stonepaw with a thrush, obviously wanting to share – to make amends. But Stonepaw said something snappish, turning his back on his sister and sitting with his head on his paws. Clearly hurt, Mistypaw dragged her meal over to the stump near the apprentice's den and sat with it, her appetite clearly having disappeared.

"I don't think he will," Tinystar admitted. Sandstorm shifted, her gaze falling to her paws. "But at the very least… we may be able to stop whatever happens next."

He gazed over at Stonepaw's tense shape again. _And hopefully, we can finally resolve whatever is eating at your heart, Stonepaw…_


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

" _T-Tinystar?"_

The small voice woke Tinystar from a restless slumber. It had been two days since the incident with Stonepaw at Sunningrocks. Tinystar lifted his head from Sandstorm's flank, blinking sleep from his eyes. He peered into the predawn light filtering through into his den and spotted the kit-small shape of Sorrelkit.

Tinystar nudged Sandstorm awake. The pale ginger she-cat protested, but her jaws shut when she scented Sorrelkit at the entrance. Her green eyes flashed with concern.

"He's gone again, isn't he?" Tinystar guessed.

Sorrelkit nodded. The kitten's yellow eyes were filled with worry.

"Then let's be after him," Sandstorm decided briskly. "There's no time to lose."

"I'm coming, too?" Sorrelkit asked as Tinystar and Sandstorm got to their paws.

Tinystar shook moss from his pelt. "Of course," he told her. Sandstorm flashed him a warning gaze, but Tinystar returned it with a soft look. He'd given Sorrelkit this mission – she would be downhearted if she were left out. He whispered into Sandstorm's ear, "I don't think Stonepaw would attack his own Clanmate. It's likely that this isn't as bad as we fear."

Sandstorm huffed, but didn't protest.

They were on their paws and on their way in a matter of moments, with Sorrelkit leading the way out of camp. Tinystar needed only a moment to put Whitestorm in charge of camp – the white warrior was worried about his kit going off into the forest, but he seemed alright with Tinystar and Sandstorm accompanying her.

Tinystar hoped they wouldn't be gone long.

As they pushed their way through the gorse tunnel, Tinystar felt an uncomfortable prickle behind his ears. The last time he and Sandstorm had tracked an apprentice like this, it had been Cloudtail during her training… and at the end of the trail Cloudtail had been taken away from them by Twolegs.

He hoped this wouldn't end the same way.

* * *

"He went this way!"

Sorrelkit raised her dappled tail, looking back at Tinystar and Sandstorm. Tinystar opened his jaws. Stonepaw's scent crossed his scent glands. He nodded to Sorrelkit. "Good job," he offered.

The kitten's fur fluffed. "T-Thanks!" She wiggled excitedly. "He usually takes the same way – off the paths the other warriors take. You can smell it!"

She was right – Stonepaw's scent was deep in the earth on this off-path track. Tinystar glanced worriedly at Sandstorm.

"Let's hurry on," Sandstorm meowed. "Lead the way, Sorrelkit."

Sorrelkit nodded, her own excitement tempered by worry for her Clanmate. She turned about and pushed through the ragged undergrowth. Tinystar and Sandstorm followed, their paws itching to go faster than a kitten's pace.

"She's a good tracker," Sandstorm meowed into Tinystar's ear. "Spunky, too."

Tinystar nodded. "She'll make a great apprentice," he agreed. "I'm just worried where that nose of her's is leading us."

Sunningrocks loomed through the trees ahead. Tinystar and Sandstorm caught up to Sorrelkit, pushing her between them despite the kitten's protests. They kept their bodies low, their tails still above the leaf litter, like they were stalking prey. Sorrelkit, thankfully, kept her jaws shut as they crept through the last paces of undergrowth.

 _This is where Stonepaw always goes,_ Tinystar thought, scanning the pebbly shore. _Where is he?_

"There!" hissed Sorrelkit, stretching out a paw to point.

Sandstorm hushed the kit. Tinystar followed Sorrelkit's paw, which pointed downstream, towards the stepping-stones. Tinystar's fur prickled. Stonepaw sat on one of the stepping-stones near the ThunderClan bank, his tail wrapped around his paws and his back to his onlookers.

On the stone just before him was Darkstripe.

"I _knew_ it," hissed Sandstorm. "Of _course_ it's Darkstripe!"

Sorrelkit bristled indignantly. "He's such a fox-heart!" she hissed. "Come on, Tinystar – let's get Stonepaw away from him!"

"Wait," Tinystar hushed, planting a paw on Sorrelkit's back to keep her haunches from disturbing the foliage. "We can't let them know we're here just yet – I want to hear what they're talking about first."

They hunkered down more, Sandstorm and Tinystar pressing Sorrelkit's fidgeting body between them in hopes of dampening the sounds she was making. Horror crept over Tinystar's pelt as he looked at Darkstripe – the sleek black tabby was fit and healthy, looking down at Stonepaw with confidence in his pale eyes.

 _LionClan made this possible,_ Tinystar thought, his belly clenching. _Darkstripe would never be able to get so close to the stepping-stones like this!_

Tinystar strained his ears.

"… are you feeling, Stonepaw?" The water was thankfully gentle today, making Darkstripe's mew easier to hear.

Stonepaw was shaking his head. "It's still the same – worse, even," he meowed. His tone was panicked and sorrowful. "Everyone's judging me, like you said they would. I can see it in their eyes when they look at me… Mistypaw won't believe me when I say they look at her like that, too! She won't listen to me about anything anymore, it feels like…"

Darkstripe's eyes softened piteously. Tinystar dug his claws into the earth.

"You shouldn't have to fight for your Clanmate's approval," Darkstripe said softly. "That's not fair."

"It's _not!"_ Stonepaw snapped back. His neck fur bristled. "It's not fair at all! But that's all anyone keeps telling me – do everything better than anyone else or everyone thinks you're a traitor! Do you know how frustrating that is?!"

 _Oh, Stonepaw,_ Tinystar thought, glancing at Sandstorm. The pale she-cat's eyes were round with sorrow. _I should have done more for you! I have to!_

Darkstripe's tail wound around his paws. He was nodding. "My offer still stands, Stonepaw – in LionClan there would be none of this nonsense," he meowed. "The longer you stay in ThunderClan, the more unwanted you'll feel. You'd be able to see everything with your own eyes – not through ThunderClan's… bias. You know they refuse to see that Bluestar has changed."

Stonepaw stiffened on his stepping-stone.

Tinystar's eyes widened. How long had Darkstripe been trying to coax Stonepaw into LionClan – or ShadowClan, for that matter? Sandstorm held a low growl in her throat, her eyes flashing protectively.

"Stop!"

Tinystar felt his fur burn as Sorrelkit rocketed out from between himself and Sandstorm. The calico kitten streaked across the shore, bounding over the stepping-stones without a care and pushing past Stonepaw to lunge herself at Darkstripe, paws and claws outstretched to latch onto the dark tabby warrior.

"Sorrelkit!" Sandstorm cried.

Tinystar burst through the undergrowth to chase after the kit as she and Darkstripe wrestled on the small stone. Darkstripe's claws flashed. Sandstorm pulled ahead, scattering pebbles in her wake. When Darkstripe thrust Sorrelkit into the river, Sandstorm dove in immediately after her. Tinystar skidded to a stop at the shore, his pads burning against the stones.

"You see, Stonepaw?" hissed Darkstripe. Tinystar turned his gaze, narrowing his ice-blue eyes at the dark warrior. Darkstripe was adjusting himself on his stone, his claws clinging to its edges. "You see? Do you know what they'll do to you just for speaking to me? Exile!"

Stonepaw's eyes were wide, his legs trembling. "N-No!"

"Yes!" snapped Darkstripe.

"That's not true, Stonepaw!" Tinystar called. He tried to keep his eye on the river, on Sandstorm struggling in the water with Sorrelkit, but he had to focus. "We came here to talk to you!"

Stonepaw's eyes flashed between Tinystar and Darkstripe. He swallowed, shivering.

"Are you going to listen to the one cat who judges you most for being Bluestar's son?" Darkstripe snapped, neck fur bristling. "When has he ever looked at you or your littermates and not seen her?"

Fury flashed through Tinystar's pelt. He unsheathed his claws. "Do you really think I'm so small-minded?" he snarled to Darkstripe. "I know their worth, and so will ThunderClan!"

"When?" sneered Darkstripe. "How much blood must Stonepaw shed before his so-called Clanmates finally recognize his loyalty? You of all cats should know that no matter what you do, some cats will see you as nothing more than a useless _kittypet."_

Tinystar bunched his muscles.

"Stonepaw, don't listen to him!" Tinystar pleaded. "Please! There are cats in ThunderClan who love you, who need you! What about Mistypaw? Mosspaw? Oakheart?"

From the corner of his eye Tinystar spotted Sandstorm pulling herself out of the river, dragging Sorrelkit behind her. Both were sodden, drenched to the bone.

Stonepaw looked between Darkstripe and Tinystar. His eyes narrowed. "They never understood why I was upset," he snapped. "We shouldn't have to work harder than anyone else to prove our loyalty just because of what our mother did!"

"Yes," Darkstripe purred. "Yes, Stonepaw!"

"I-I'm _tired_ of the way cats look at me," Stonepaw went on. "Of the way they treat me. I'm sorry, Tinystar – I'm grateful that you tried, but you just didn't try hard enough. I don't feel like I belong anywhere right now – but I know I don't belong in ThunderClan."

Tinystar's heart plummeted.

Darkstripe raised his head, his eyes sparkling with triumph.

Tinystar bunched himself, preparing to spring.

"Tinystar! Sorrelkit isn't breathing!"

Tinystar started.

"Go on, Tiny _star,"_ Darkstripe sneered. "Take care of your Clanmate. After all, that is your job, isn't it?"

Tinystar bristled. He snapped back, "Close your jaws! If she dies, it'll be on your head, traitor!"

"Come on, Stonepaw," Darkstripe meowed, grinning. "LionClan is waiting for you."

Stonepaw hesitated, looking back at Tinystar with worry in his eyes. But Darkstripe leaned over the gap between their stones and grasped Stonepaw's scruff in his jaws, tugging him along. Tinystar had to push them out of sight and mind to go to Sandstorm, who was desperately trying to push the water out of Sorrelkit.

"I-It's not coming out!" Sandstorm meowed frantically. "Oh StarClan, don't take her!"

Tinystar bristled, fury and frustration filling his body. He planted his paws against Sorrelkit's lungs and pushed with near all his might. The kit shuddered under his weight and gasped, vomiting up a lungful of river water.

"Oh, Tinystar…" Sandstorm sighed. "Oh, thank StarClan!"

Sorrelkit bunched herself up, groaning and shivering. Sandstorm began furiously lapping at her pelt, pushing the fur the wrong way to warm her. Tinystar joined her, but he felt so disconnected from the task at his paws.

Stonepaw was gone.

Gone to LionClan.

 _And it's my fault._

* * *

They were in the medicine cat's den as quickly as they could manage – but the moments stretched into seasons for Tinystar, especially when he had to tell the Clan what had happened. His Clanmate's reactions hit like a blow – from the devastation in their eyes, Tinystar knew he ought to have tried so much harder to keep Stonepaw from falling into LionClan clutches.

"I never meant to…" Mousefur bristled. "I never meant to make him feel like that!"

"None of us did," Cinderpelt mewed gently. "We had no idea he was hurting so much…"

Dustpelt dropped his gaze to his paws. "We of all cats ought to know not to judge others by their birth…"

Mistypaw wailed, and Mosspaw was shivering beside her sister. Disbelief hung in their blue eyes, even as they watched over Sorrelkit. Brackenfur was tending to her, with Willowpelt wrapped around her little kit.

"There's no place in StarClan for one who'd toss a kitten in the river," Brackenfur declared. "He could have drowned her!"

Willowpelt's body rippled with grief. "I must have been such a poor mother, for Darkstripe to end up such a villain…"

"That's not true!" Rainkit chimed in.

Sootkit, by his brother's side, was bristling. "It's not! You're the best mother ever!"

"This isn't your fault, Willowpelt," Tinystar meowed, touching his nose to the queen's forehead. "He was always on Bluestar's side, likely from the moment he was her apprentice."

"I thought she would teach him well!" Willowpelt breathed, her eyes wide and filled with sorrow. "But look at what he's become! Look at what they've _both_ become! How can a kit turn out so different from either of his parents?"

Brackenfur hushed her, lapping gently at Willowpelt's flank. "Don't blame yourself, Willowpelt. StarClan knows you're not the cause. There, there… let your kits calm you. Sorrelkit needs to be kept warm or she'll catch a chill!"

"She's not moving!" Rainkit mewled as he settled beside his sister.

"She's in shock," Brackenfur explained. "She'll wake soon, and she'll feel a lot better when she does. Can you feel her breathing?"

Rainkit nodded. He and Sootkit, along with Willowpelt, formed a protective ring around Sorrelkit, warm and soft with all their leaf-bare fluff. Tinystar knew that the kitten would be alright - especially with Brackenfur to care for her.

Tinystar had to leave the medicine den then. There was nothing more for him there. He sagged under the weight of his guilt and it seemed like guilt clouded over the entire clearing. Cats had their heads low, their tails still. They had lost one of their own but there was no body to mourn for Stonepaw. His presence would likely never be felt in the clearing again.

 _It's my fault._ Tinystar couldn't stop the nagging doubt in his mind. _I should have done so much more for him._ How could he call himself leader if one of his own cats was so easily convinced to leave his Clan altogether?

"What are you going to do?"

The voice was trembling with sorrow, but backed up by indignation. Tinystar looked up from his paws to see Mistypaw and Mosspaw standing before him, their shoulders both squared and their tails bristling.

"Well?" Mistypaw asked, stepping forward. "Are you going to go get him back?"

Tinystar sighed. "I don't know that I can, Mistypaw," he breathed, looking over the sisters. "He left of his own volition."

"He was tricked!" Mosspaw insisted. "He had to have been!"

"Stonepaw is a _ThunderClan_ cat!" Mistypaw went on. Her eyes glittered. "We need to fight for him! You always said that Bluestar just wanted to use us! She's going to use him, too!"

"StarClan can't let this happen!" Mosspaw added, shaking her head. "They just can't!"

Tinystar felt so badly for the sisters, and so badly for himself. The weight of failure as a warrior or deputy or apprentice did not hang so heavy or sting as hard as failure did for a leader. He felt as if he hadn't just failed one small clique of cats – Tinystar knew he had failed his Clan as a whole.

"We're going to try," Tinystar meowed. "It's all we can do."

"And if he doesn't want to come back?" Mistypaw murmured.

Tinystar touched his nose to her muzzle, the reply of _then nothing can be done_ hanging in the air. Tinystar felt right now that if he spoke those words aloud he would believe them for the rest of his days. There had to be _something_ he could do – but right now the thought of being capable of doing anything wasn't occurring.

Mistypaw and Mosspaw padded away, their tails twined and pelts brushing. They disappeared into the medicine cat's den together.

Sandstorm brushed against him, wrapping her tail with his. "This is my fault," she breathed. "If I had been a better mentor…"

"It's _my_ fault," Tinystar insisted. He looked out at the clearing, at all the grieving cats. At Oakheart, who paced in front of Whitestorm and Longtail with his tail kinked and his eyes wild with the worry of a desperate father. "I needed to do more. I needed to make him feel more accepted. I needed to make sure he felt no different than any other cat."

"You're Clan leader now," Sandstorm admonished. "You can't possibly have time for every little thing. There's more I could have done, too – like helping him deal with Ashpaw or even not being so strict at times." She worked her paws into the earth. "I won't let anything like this ever happen to one of my apprentices again – and if Stonepaw wants to come back… and wants me as his mentor… I'll give him better than my best."

Tinystar took heart in her confidence and determination despite the circumstances – losing her apprentice to Darkstripe was a low blow to her pride. Tinystar leaned against his mate, looking out at his Clanmates, feeling her determination swell up inside his chest.

"We'll get him back," he decided. "We _have_ to try."

Tigerstar's words came back to him, words spoken when Tinystar admitted to sneaking Ravenpaw away from ThunderClan so long ago, words he'd echoed to Mistypaw, too: That not every cat had the heart of a Clan cat. Not every cat was born where they belonged.

Did that apply to Stonepaw, too?

 _We'll get him back… If that's even what he really wants._


	17. Chapter 15

**Going to be updating one chapter a week for a little while - got kind of behind on stuffing my queue for this story!**

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

" _Tinystar, I need to talk to_ you."

Tinystar looked up from his meal – half a scrawny rabbit Snowpaw had managed to run down with Cinderpelt's help. Sandstorm had had to eat her half in haste, for Whitestorm had assigned her to an early hunting patrol. Graystripe had waited for Sandstorm to leave before approaching, which meant he really needed privacy.

He flicked his tail. Graystripe settled beside him, pressing his massive wall of fur up against Tinystar's smaller body. For a moment, it reminded Tinystar of their first leaf-bare as warriors, snuggling up in a shared nest at the outer edges of the warrior's den to keep warm… before Graystripe's relationship with Silverstream drove a brief wedge between them, that is.

"I'll be straight with you," Graystripe huffed, his voice low. "I'm worried about Silverstream and the kits."

Tinystar's ear twitched.

"It's this LionClan thing, okay?" Graystripe went on. His expression was clouded with worry. "Leopardstar already doesn't really favor them, you know? And I know some of RiverClan didn't, either. But with Bluestar and ShadowClan in the mix… and after what happened with Stonepaw… I can't stop thinking about what might be happening to them."

"That's fair," Tinystar admitted. Graystripe might have always belonged in ThunderClan, but a piece of his heart would always belong to his RiverClan mate Silverstream – who he refused to denounce – and their kits Featherpaw and Stormpaw. For that reason Graystripe's loyalty would always be in some small question… but Tinystar knew he'd never be able to bring himself to punish Graystripe any more than he'd endured already. "We have no idea at all what's going on over there – patrols just report the scent markers smelling particularly awful."

Tinystar looked out at his Clan, milling about their business. Dustpelt and Cinderpelt were refining moves with Snowpaw and Fernpaw while Whitestorm watched. Mosspaw was hauling dirty bedding out of the nursery, Willowpelt's kits following her. Brackenfur ducked out of the elder's den, an empty curl of bark in his jaws.

By the apprentice's den, Mistypaw was huddled. Her plumy tail swished in the snow. She looked restless and so very, very sad. Tinystar had given her the day off to recover from the shock of Stonepaw's loss, which had hit her as hard as if he'd died. Something needed to be done, for both of them.

"I don't know what to do about the Stonepaw situation," Tinystar admitted, feely ashamed. He was leader, he ought to know! But ideas weren't coming easily. "But I do know that dealing with LionClan in any way will lead to disaster."

Graystripe's ears flattened. "We have to do _something._ I need to know if my kits are safe!" He shifted. "If we could just catch a cat's attention… some cat like Mosspelt – we'd be able to ask! About _everyone_ we're worried about."

Tinystar sighed. He knew deep in his heart that Graystripe would do the same for him were their positions reversed. "We may be able to try and get a patrol's attention… with just the two of us, and your knowledge of RiverClan's territory we could probably figure out all you need to know."

Graystripe's eyes lit up.

"This isn't a game, though, Graystripe," Tinystar pointed out. Graystripe deflated. "I'm a Clan leader now – I can't just go running about in other Clan's territories all the time. LionClan is dangerous, and at the first sign of danger we're gone. Understood?"

Graystripe nodded. "Understood."

Tinystar flicked his tail. "All right. Let's get moving, then."

He got to his paws. Graystripe pulled himself up, too. The big gray warrior tailed Tinystar as the smaller black cat made his way over to Whitestorm.

The white warrior was observing Snowpaw and Fernpaw's tussling with a keen eye, his tail flicking thoughtfully. From a distance he looked as if he were a figure made from the snow that gently coated the grass around them.

"Whitestorm, I want you to take charge for the day," Tinystar announced.

Whitestorm's eyes flashed to Graystripe, then back to Tinystar. "Of course," he meowed. His expression flickered with curiosity. "Knowing you two, you're up to something."

Tinystar's tail curled. Suddenly he felt like an apprentice again under Whitestorm's scrutinous gaze. _I'm a Clan leader!_ He told himself. _I can authorize this kind of mission all I want._

"Keep an eye on Sandstorm when she comes back," Tinystar suggested. "She's taken this whole Stonepaw thing rather hard."

"A lot of the Clan has," Whitestorm admitted. "Be careful, Tinystar."

"Of course."

Tinystar turned away and led Graystripe to the gorse tunnel. Just before they set paw through, however, the dry fronds began to shake and a scent passed through the tunnel… Tinystar and Graystripe stepped back, Graystripe grunting with surprise.

Ravenpaw pushed his way through the tunnel, his eyes rounding with shock as he nearly ran into Tinystar and Graystripe. His white-tipped tail shot up. "Tinystar! Graystripe!" he mewed.

"Ravenpaw!" Graystripe breathed. Tinystar realized it'd been a long time since Ravenpaw and Graystripe had seen one another.

"Whoa, who's that?" Fernpaw wondered.

"That's just Ravenpaw," Dustpelt offered. "Don't worry a whisker about him." The prickly brown warrior stiffly waved his tail in greeting at the loner. "Now focus, Fernpaw."

"Sorry!"

"What are you doing here?" Tinystar wondered.

Ravenpaw's ear twitched. "Well, I came by to pay my respects to Tigerstar. I thought now would be a good time, before his grave is all covered with snow." His eyes flashed between Tinystar and Graystripe.

"You're welcome to," Tinystar meowed. "Ask Whitestorm or one of the elders to bring you to the spot. Right now, Graystripe and I need to be off."

"Oh?" Ravenpaw's tail curled. "Looks like you two are on a mission… Just like when we were apprentices! What's happening?"

Graystripe curled his lip. "Bluestar has joined RiverClan and ShadowClan into some sort of mess called LionClan – and we're going to see if we can find out how my mate and kits are doing."

"And see if we can find Stonepaw," Tinystar added. At Ravenpaw's confused look, Tinystar added, "He went over to LionClan with that weasel Darkstripe yesterday. I don't know what Darkstripe said to make Stonepaw want to go but I need to try and figure out how to get him home."

Ravenpaw's face turned from nostalgic excitement to horror. "How could she do this…?" his voice trailed off into nothingness. Then he raised his chin, his expression hardening. "I'm coming with you."

"W-What?" Tinystar glanced worriedly at Graystripe.

"Raven, these aren't kits games," Graystripe meowed gravely. "If we're caught… LionClan might try to kill us."

"I know." Ravenpaw's eyes flashed. "But I'm not a fool. I still have my warrior training behind me, remember. I didn't just forget it all." His gaze softened. "Let me help you, you mouse-brains."

Tinystar purred. "All right," he agreed.

Graystripe softened as well, his fur flattening. He touched his nose to Ravenpaw's. "Just like old times!"

Ravenpaw's tail went straight up. "Indeed!" he agreed.

The three of them pressed together, purring in a heap. Tinystar was taken back fondly to his apprentice days, the three of them together all the time and getting into trouble by each other's sides. Yet he felt a small gap between himself and Graystripe and Ravenpaw – a gap he felt with all the other cats around him.

 _I'm leader now,_ he thought. _None of this will ever really be the same._

* * *

Their small patrol picked their way around Sunningrocks, heading for the stepping-stones. Tinystar tried to ignore the fact that he could still smell traces of Darkstripe's scent here, mostly swept away by the water – they were here mainly for Graystripe's sake. It would take all of Tinystar's self-control not to shred that traitor Darkstripe should they come across him on the other side.

"Wait," Ravenpaw hissed suddenly.

The three ducked behind a boulder, huddling together in a heap. The river was usually a quiet thing, especially in leaf-bare. Tinystar could hear the gentle rustle of reeds and the shifting of pebbles coming from the other shore.

He dared to peek out. He was on his own territory, yes, but he didn't want any LionClan cat to have a ThunderClan cat on their mind – it would only make it harder for them to sneak in if they had a confrontation of any kind now.

Passing by the stepping-stones was a patrol of mixed ShadowClan and RiverClan cats. Tinystar recognized Leafwhisker of RiverClan spraying a mark on a small boulder along the shore before turning to chat quietly with Brownfoot of ShadowClan. The depth of their formality – the way they walked so easily together – made shivers crawl down Tinystar's spine. That wasn't how the Clans should be.

The three waited for Leafwhisker and Brownfoot to disappear before they emerged.

"It's not right," Ravenpaw sighed, wrinkling his nose. "And it smells awful."

Graystripe nodded, his eyes hard. "I didn't think ShadowClan could smell any worse."

Tinystar made no comment. The mix of fishy RiverClan and the almost fermented odor of ShadowClan was alien and disgusting, as unnatural as LionClan itself. He made sure that the other bank was free of cats before signaling that it was safe to cross.

Ravenpaw crossed with a confidence that Tinystar knew he'd never had in ThunderClan. The skinny worrywart of an apprentice had grown into a full-bodied and capable cat, and all it'd taken was finding where he'd truly belonged. Tinystar was glad for that.

Graystripe seemed to barely think about crossing the stepping-stones, not minding if he landed his paws on the wetter bits – his mind was on his family. Sometimes, Tinystar swore he could still smell RiverClan's fishy scent on his old friend, buried deep in his still-oily fur. Graystripe was a ThunderClan cat through and through but his knowledge of RiverClan territory would come in useful today.

As Tinystar crossed he recalled all he'd done for RiverClan – feeding them during his first leaf-bare in the forest, and saving Tawnypelt's kits the next. How quickly Leopardstar had forgotten those deeds in favor of Bluestar's promises of power and strength! It was unfortunate.

Graystripe silently led them into a thick reed bed on the other side of the river. Tinystar felt even smaller and so exposed outside of ThunderClan territory, his tail twitching with discomfort.

"Where do we go?" Tinystar asked.

Graystripe hunched his shoulders. "The camp is further in, hidden on a reedy island – you remember that, right?" Tinystar nodded. "But it's not a big enough place for all of RiverClan _and_ ShadowClan, too."

"Would they abandon the camp completely?" Ravenpaw wondered, his eyes darting around. RiverClan's territory was sparse of trees, with only a few twisting willows or oaks and birches and not much in the way of undergrowth.

"No." Graystripe shook his head. "But they might keep weaker cats in the camp. I can't imagine Leopardstar abandoning it completely. They must be somewhere else…"

"Where might that…" Tinystar's question was cut off by a thick, choking, horrible smell. The wind had changed just so, bringing forth the foul odors of rot and decay.

"Yikes!" Ravenpaw bristled. "What in StarClan's name is that?!"

Graystripe flattened his ears. "Ugh… smells like something died! Something _big…"_

Tinystar waved his tail. "It's our only lead," he admitted, trying not to gag.

"You don't really want to _follow_ that, do you?" Graystripe whined.

Tinystar frowned. "Do you have a better idea?"

Graystripe shook his head, and Ravenpaw sighed.

Tinystar lowered his body, stalking through the reeds towards the rank carrion stench. Graystripe and Ravenpaw followed, with Graystripe's pale gray coat shielding the black cats from being easily spotted.

The trail led them upriver, away from the parts of RiverClan territory that Tinystar was vaguely familiar with. It took their paws along a small stream that fed into the river, looping back deeper into RiverClan territory. Graystripe curled his lip, confusion flashing in his eyes.

"This is nowhere near the camp," Graystripe reported quietly. "And nowhere near where RiverClan dumps crow-food."

Tinystar and Ravenpaw gave Graystripe a questioning look.

Graystripe bristled. "Look – herons and other birds leave carcasses all over the place! It's generally an apprentice task, or… well…"

"They made you do it, too." Tinystar touched his muzzle to his friend's in sympathy. Ravenpaw murmured in understanding.

"RiverClan cats like their territory clean," Graystripe grumbled. "They usually bury crow-food where the animal belonged, like burying a rabbit near the moor or a bird near the roots of a tree… but this reeks of more than just fish by the shore, and it's certainly not buried."

They soon found the source: a large pile of crow-food, rotting carcasses with meat still clinging to their bones, piled up in a bend of the stream they'd been following. Flies that wished to brave the cold buzzed relentlessly over the pile, and the wave of rot that washed over the cats made Ravenpaw gag. Old blood seeped into the stream in places, washed downstream and fading into the river.

"Disgusting!" Ravenpaw croaked weakly.

Graystripe's eyes were wide with horror. "Look at all that prey!" he hissed. "How could they waste so much?"

Tinystar felt anger and despair bubbling inside him. _How many cats would that prey have fed?_ He wondered. _And how much overhunting have they done? LionClan will ravage the land if left like this!_

"RiverClan never wastes prey like this," Graystripe went on. His voice cracked with despair. "Everything is shared and nothing is lost. What has Bluestar done to them?"

Tinystar frowned, realizing that this must at least be a decently trafficked area of LionClan land. He began to look around. There was no sign of any cats, though through the rotting smell, which Tinystar was beginning to get used to, he could scent that new beastly smell of LionClan. There were cats around, but not here.

"Look at that," Ravenpaw hissed, nudging Tinystar and Graystripe away from the carcass pile.

The three ducked down instinctively. Through another reed bed Tinystar could see a great pile of bones, polished by the sun and gleaming in the leaf-bare light. Claws of dread clenched Tiynstar's stomach – he could see not just prey bones, but _cat_ bones as well. Great StarClan!

Tinystar dug his claws into the earth. From the shadows of the bones he saw lines of blood seeping through, trickling down amongst the remains until it formed a puddle below. Tinystar swallowed, knowing that this was a vision of his own.

"This is what she'll do," Ravenpaw breathed. "Bring death to all."

The three cats stood rigidly together, huddled in the reeds as the hustle of cats caught their attention. They'd been so focused on the bones they'd missed the fact that the grotesque monument was surrounded by cats, both RiverClan and ShadowClan.

 _They look so… proud…_ Tinystar thought, horrified. The cats around the hill of bones had their chests puffed out and their heads held high. Some even cheered as Bluestar and Leopardstar climbed the bones to look down at them.

"Augh, it's like their Highrock," Graystripe hissed. "Disgusting!"

"Quiet!" Ravenpaw insisted, his eyes wide.

Tinystar was too focused on Bluestar and Leopardstar to chastise his friends. Bluestar stood at the very top, looking down upon her Clan with her emotionless eyes. Leopardstar was just below, balancing precariously on the uneven bones. _Was this what Leopardstar wanted? All this power and death?_

"Silence, LionClan! Silence beneath the Bonehill!"

Bluestar's voice rang out in the clear leaf-bare air, bringing quiet to the Clan below. Tinystar frowned. Why were they arranged so? The LionClan cats were sitting around the shadow of their horrific monument, leaving a large clearing between them. Was this a ceremony of some kind?

"Loyalty," Bluestar began, "is what holds a Clan together. Loyalty to one another, loyalty to one's Clan, loyalty to the warrior code and to StarClan and to one's leader. A Clan cannot function without truly loyal members – and soon, the other Clans will see this too. WindClan and ThunderClan will see the power of LionClan's loyalty… and they will join us."

"LionClan!" called some of the cats below her. "Bluestar!"

Tinystar dug his claws in deep, glancing at Leopardstar. _They're fanatics!_ He thought. Leopardstar was unreadable – no reaction to the cats below, some who were once her own, not even calling her name. _This is terrifying!_

He strained his eyes, searching for Silverstream or Featherpaw, Stormpaw, and Stonepaw. Tinystar couldn't see any of them in the gathered crowd, and he felt Graystripe's fur bristling with worry. Tinystar looked again and realized that only Russetfur represented LionClan's deputies – Brambleclaw was nowhere to be seen, either. Neither was Tawnypelt.

"Oh StarClan, oh StarClan…" prayed Ravenpaw frantically, his body pressed to the earth and his eyes locked on Bluestar.

The crowd quieted down.

"Loyalty…" Bluestar repeated, gazing down at her subjects. "All the Clans bear a bit of one another. We know this. All in all, it means little, as loyalty to our own Clan is paramount! But not all half-blooded cats see it that way. _Some_ value blood more than Clan… and these are the cats that will dismantle a loyal Clan! These cats must be rooted out!"

The crowd cheered uproariously.

"They're not loyal!" shouted a cat.

Another screeched, "They never will be!"

"Impure!"

"Disgusting!"

"A disgrace to the Clans!"

Tinystar wanted to retch. Beside him, Graystripe was trembling, obviously trying to fight back the urge to spring.

 _How do they not see?_ Tinystar thought, eyes widening. _How has Bluestar blinded them so?_

Bluestar waved her tail.

The crowd near the Bonehill parted. Tinystar's body froze.

Three cats were thrust into the clearing beneath the Bonehill – weak and starved with ribcages showing and pelts pulled taut. Graystripe growled deep in his throat as the crowd closed, the cats hissing and spitting at the three cats.

Brambleclaw. Stormpaw. Featherpaw.

"My kits!" Graystripe snarled. "That monster -"

Tinystar and Ravenpaw dug their claws into Graystripe's thick fur, pulling him down in the reed bed before he could spring out into the open and expose them. Graystripe struggled, growling.

Featherpaw let out a whimper. Stormpaw huddled with her, his tail over his sister's sharp shoulders. Brambleclaw got to his paws, his broad shoulders gleaming in the light. His amber eyes scorched the crowd as he wound himself around the apprentices, holding them both beneath him protectively.

The tabby tom's eyes burned into Leopardstar.

Tinystar pressed Graystripe down, horrified.

 _Great StarClan… no!_


	18. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

" _Graystripe, stay still!" Ravenpaw hissed, putting_ all his weight down on the bigger, more muscular tom below him. "If we're found out we're dead!"

Graystripe growled in vain, digging his claws into the earth. His eyes were wide and wild, his hind paws scrabbling against the dirt. Tinystar's heart beat in his ears as he peered frantically at the crowd of cats below the Bonehill – had anyone heard them?

By StarClan's will it seemed like every cat below the Bonehill was too wrapped up in what was happening in the clearing.

"We'll find a way to get your kits," Tinystar hissed, glancing back at his friend and willing him to stay silent. "But right now we need to be quiet!"

Graystripe's jaws were clamped shut, but there was a primal desperation in his eyes.

Bluestar began to speak again, her voice carrying over the reed-strewn valley: "Brambleclaw was once as loyal a cat as any of you – but as of late his blood ties to ThunderClan has meant more to him than Leopardstar and his own Clan."

Her eyes fell upon Stormpaw and Featherpaw, who were both huddled beneath Brambleclaw's skinny, starved form. "These young cats are much the same – prizing their ThunderClan blood over where their loyalties lie."

"That's not true!" Brambleclaw snarled. "How dare you speak such lies?"

"You will have a chance to prove yourself, Brambleclaw," Bluestar meowed, her tone clipped. "I trust you will not squander it."

Brambeclaw bristled. His amber eyes burned into Leopardstar, who seemed indifferent to her deputy's words. "This is unforgiveable, Leopardstar!" Brambleclaw snarled, digging his hooked claws into the muck. "You _know_ I am loyal to you!"

Leoaprdstar said nothing.

Bluestar twisted her tail. "She is not the only Clan leader in LionClan," she meowed. "Your loyalty is mine as well, and together we question yours."

Brambleclaw's lip curled, as if he'd tasted something foul. " _You_ will never have my loyalty, you traitorous, murdering wretch," he seethed. "Any Clan leader who would allow something this disgusting to happen to one of their own is one owed loyalty from no cat!"

The crowd around him hushed. Brambleclaw's hoarse, cracking voice echoed through the sky. A heron took flight in the distance. For a moment, Tinystar could see something flicker across the faces of the cats below – mostly the ones that had been RiverClan. He hoped, prayed, to StarClan that someone would say something to end this… whatever this was.

"Do you see, Leopardstar?" Bluestar's voice broke through the silence. "Listen to his words. His impudence. His disloyalty. A Clan leader's word is law, and if a Clan leader asks you to prove yourself… you do. Without question."

Leopardstar said nothing.

Brambleclaw thrust his muzzle at the Bonehill, bearing his teeth. "The Leopardstar I know would never let her Clan be taken from her. The Leopardstar I know would have too much pride in her heart to watch someone else give RiverClan cats orders. Leopardstar… I have no idea who you are anymore."

Leopardstar stiffened – but she said nothing.

Brambleclaw turned to the cats gathered around him. "Any RiverClan cat can see it now," he decided. "Any RiverClan warrior worth their merit knows… that Bluestar has corrupted a cat that was once the very pride of RiverClan!"

"Silence!" snapped Bluestar. She got to her paws, squaring her shoulders. Bones clattered beneath her weight. "It is time to see where your loyalties lie, Brambleclaw! Whether or not you are worthy of being a LionClan _elder_ , let alone a warrior! Darkstripe!"

The warrior appeared from behind the Bonehill, blending in with the monument's rippling shadow. At the sight of him Brambleclaw backed up, pushing Stormpaw and Featherpaw behind him. The two young cats were trembling, terrified to the ends of their quivering whiskers.

"Yes, Bluestar?" Darkstripe asked, his eyes flashing as he looked up at his leader.

"Kill him."

Darkstripe grinned.

Brambleclaw pushed the apprentices away before Darkstripe's pounce landed. Tinystar, Ravenpaw, and Graystripe watched in rapt silence as the big tabby warrior, starved and boney, wrestled with the smooth-pelted and supple-muscled Darkstripe.

Claws flashed. Darkstripe tore fur from Brambleclaw's shoulders, while Brambleclaw dug his claws into the dark warrior's belly. Tinystar hunched his shoulders, hoping and praying that Brambleclaw would win – but the warrior was starved and clearly fatigued…

And what would happen if he _did_ win?

Darkstripe howled in pain when Brambleclaw dug his jaws into the sleek cat's ear. Darkstripe thrashed, scrabbling at Brambleclaw's body.

"Coward!" spat Brambleclaw, spitting out a clot of Darkstripe's blood.

"Traitor!" Darkstripe roared. He pushed Brambleclaw off of him with his hind paws.

Brambleclaw struggled to his paws as Darkstripe steadied himself on his own. With a yowl of rage, Darkstripe leaped at Brambleclaw… only to be slapped aside by one of the tabby warrior's massive paws.

Darkstripe slid into the crowd, who scattered out of his way. Brambleclaw stood in the clearing, panting, blood dripping from ragged scratches down his shoulders and belly and lip. Darkstripe lay on his side for a moment before struggling up to his paws, bristling in shock from ears to tail.

"Cowardly slime," Brambleclaw growled. "Were you ever really a warrior? Or just another pawn?" He raised his head and challenged, "Are these the cats you want around you, my Clan? Murderers and traitors?"

Tinystar glanced up at Bluestar and was stunned by the fury across her face. Tinystar swallowed, seeing Bluestar's claws gripping against the bones beneath her, snapping a small femur in pieces. Was she furious with Brambleclaw for winning… or with Darkstripe for losing?

What did it matter?

"Blackfoot," Bluestar snarled. "Finish this."

The massive white warrior, his paws dark and black, padded from the crowd. Tinystar felt a shiver run down his spine – Darkstripe had always been a terrible warrior, but he had weakened Brambleclaw. Blackfoot held no emotion in his gaze at all, his shoulders stiff and claws unsheathed.

Blackfoot attacked before Brambleclaw could really grasp what was happening. The massive white tom slammed himself into Brambleclaw, and they disappeared into a tangle of white-and-tabby fur. Blood spattered the earth, paws digging into the mud to gain purchase.

Tinystar's claws dug into the ground. Blackfoot's jaws snapped against Brambleclaw's leg, making the tabby warrior cry out. Watching in horror, Stormpaw and Featherpaw shrieked. Claws flashed as Brambleclaw struck out at Blackfoot's face, catching him just above the eye. Blood sprayed over them both.

"This is wrong," Ravenpaw breathed, horror in his voice. "This isn't how warriors fight!"

Tinystar trembled.

Jaws snapped around air. Brambleclaw wrapped his forelegs around Blackfoot's neck before the other warrior could try to bite again. Brambleclaw used his weight to slam Blackfoot's face into the muck. With his opponent stunned, Brambleclaw had the chance to get to his paws and take a breath.

Blackfoot didn't take long to recover. With a confident spring he landed on Brambleclaw's shoulders, slamming him into the mud. Tinystar could hear the air escaping Brambleclaw's lungs. A jerk of his head saved Brambleclaw from Blackfoot's jaws in his throat.

Brambleclaw twisted, kicking Blackfoot off of him – but the tabby warrior had little strength. Blackfoot barely moved – and instead threw his entire weight on top of Brambleclaw as his jaws sank into the tabby warrior's thick throat fur.

Blood gushed in the silence. Tinystar's stomach hollowed in horror. The only sound came from Featherpaw, who wailed uselessly into the sky as Brambleclaw's paws jerked and then lay still.


	19. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 _Silence lay over the clearing in_ the shadow of the Bonehill. Warriors stood, stunned, gaping down at Brambleclaw's dusty, tattered, defeated body. A wail of grief – Mosspelt, Tinystar thought – was cut off harshly. Even the once-ShadowClan cats looked appalled.

Bluestar stood atop the Bonehill, her shoulders hunched. She glared down at Brambleclaw's body with such a fury that Tinystar thought it would combust on the spot. Leopardstar stood beside her and yet the spotted leader looked like a kit in comparison to Bluestar's seething form.

And then… Bluestar relaxed. She straightened her spine and held her chin up high, looking down at her Clan with the same cool, cold expression she had always worn.

"It is finished," she stated. "This root of treachery within our Clan… has been removed."

The Clan did not stir beneath her. A bone rattled to the bottom of the pile as Leopardstar shifted her paws.

Tinystar trembled, staring dumbstruck at Brambleclaw's body. He had been a noble cat, for what Tinystar knew. His body lying there looked too much like the sodden, broken body of his father, Tigerstar. What would Tawnypelt do when she found out about her brother's murder? What _could_ she do? Was she even alive herself?

"Bluestar," Darkstripe's voice cut through the silence. His striped tail flicked over to Stormpaw and Featherpaw, cowering beside Brambleclaw's corpse. Their paws were soaked in blood. "A-Allow me to take care of them."

Graystripe surged underneath Ravenpaw, but the black tom kept him pinned. Tinystar edged over to his friend's side, pressing against him. He could feel Graystripe's heart beating in raw panic.

Bluestar, atop the Bonehill, shook her head. "They have seen the price of defiance paid," she decided. Her eyes rested upon Darkstripe. Tinystar could see the stab of disappointment in them – how they said _you couldn't kill them if you tried_.

Darkstripe seemed to see it, too – he hunched his shoulders and looked down at his paws, as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Take them away," Bluestar ordered. "With this display, perhaps they and the other prisoners will see the error of choosing blood over Clan."

Unceremoniously, that seemed to be the end. Bluestar leaped off of the Bonehill and called Darkstripe, Russetfur, and Blackfoot to her with a flick of her tail before pushing through the crowd without a word. Two larger warriors picked up Stormpaw and Featherpaw by the scruff and all but dragged their sorrowful selves away from the scene. There was no protest from either.

The cats surrounding the Bonehill began to disperse, getting to their paws in a stunned silence. Tinystar watched them, searching their faces for any who would speak out – any who would even hint at defying Bluestar and the monsterous thing she had done. None of them looked outright at Brambleclaw's body, left without a care.

Slowly, though, Tinystar and his companions could see some cats coming forward. Bigger cats, with sleek, shiny pelts and large, wide paws. RiverClan cats.

They gathered around Brambleclaw, their pelts pressed together. There were only a scant few – too many had joined LionClan, too many were with Bluestar now. Tinystar hardly recognized the RiverClan faces but he did know the grief that was plastered on them.

Leopardstar came last of all. The RiverClan warriors parted for her, their expression uncertain as they laid eyes on their leader, who had allowed this to happen. Tinystar watched Leopardstar fall to her haunches in the mud and press her muzzle against her deputy's bloodied flank. Her eyes stared into the distance, and for the first time in a long time, Tinystar felt sympathy for her.

 _She knows what mistake she's made now,_ Tinystar decided. _She knows… and she knows there's no way out now._

Tinystar, Graystripe, and Ravenpaw huddled together until the RiverClan cats were gone. They watched them take Brambleclaw's body away, towards the river – away from what Tinystar assumed was the main LionClan camp. The sun crawled across the sky as Leopardstar remained in the clearing, watching her Clanmates go – before she turned to join Bluestar and the others.

When all was silent, Graystripe let out a hiss of cold fury.

"We can do this," Ravenpaw breathed. "We _have_ to do this."

Tinystar looked over at his companions, his oldest friends in the forest. Ravenpaw looked ill, but determined. Graystripe was shivering with rage, his eyes like stone. Tinystar himself felt charged, as well – something had to be done now. There was no way that Stormpaw, Featherpaw, Tawnypelt, or Silverstream would be safe here.

"Where would they keep prisoners?" he asked, looking to Graystripe.

"There's a bunch of old rabbit warrens not far from here," Graystripe answered, his tone clipped. "That's where it looked like they were headed with Stormpaw and Featherpaw."

Ravenpaw's tail flicked. "Then we go."

Tinystar nodded in agreement. "There's no looking past it – we need to get the prisoners out of here, before they're killed too," he decided. His stomach curdled. _What about Stonepaw?_

 _I have no idea where he is,_ Tinystar answered, his inner voice trembling. _I won't be able to save him_ and _however many prisoners there are._ He would fight all of LionClan and lose all his nine lives to defeat them – but that would do no good for the cats that needed saving now. Stonepaw would have to fend for himself until some other way was devised. _At least being Bluestar's son means he must be safe._

"Look," Ravenpaw mewed, breaking into Tinystar's thoughts. He had sauntered up to the pile of crow-food and rotting carcasses and pulled one of the bodies away with his paws. "I know it sounds awful, but… we can roll in these to disguise our scents."

Graystripe curled his lip, but didn't protest. Tinystar was revolted at the thought, but knew it was the best idea they could manage right now.

Together, all three brought out a small pile of crow-food and together all three rolled themselves in it. Tinystar tried to block out the sounds of crunching, mushing corpses and did his best to push back the urge to retch. The others were just the same – quiet, stone-faced, and determined.

Silence lay between them now – after all, what could any of them say, after what they had seen? They knew what they had to do, and the silence seemed almost respectful to Brambleclaw's memory.

When they were coated and disguised, Graystripe led the way.

* * *

Graystripe pushed them into another bed of reeds as the rabbit warren came into view. LionClan scent was everywhere here – along with the disgusting scent of crow-food, blood, and sickness. Tinystar's stomach clenched as he peered into the biggest of the holes, clearly hollowed out by cat's claws. Would there be anyone to save down there?

The earth shifted and a cat's face appeared in the hole. The tom dragged himself out of the warren, shaking dirt from his broad, striped shoulders.

"Jaggedtooth," Graystripe hissed.

"Eugh," Ravenpaw scoffed. "He stinks!"

"So do we," Tinystar remarked.

Graystripe's hackles rose. "My kits are down there," he meowed, his voice low. "And Silverstream, too."

Tinystar frowned. Jaggedtooth had plopped himself squarely in front of the entrance to the warren. He was clearly not going to move any time soon. Tinystar turned to his companions. "What do we do?"

Ravenpaw and Graystripe's faces turned thoughtful. Graystripe kept shaking his head, as if he was too worried to think about a plan. Tinystar didn't blame him.

It was Ravenpaw who raised his tail. "I have a thought," he mewed.

"Go on," Tinystar invited, keeping Jaggedtooth in his vision.

Ravenpaw crept forward. "We all might stink to high StarClan, but Jaggedtooth will recognize either of you, even if he's mouse-brained," he pointed out. "But if _I_ go… there's no way Jaggedtooth will know who I am!"

"That's true!" Graystripe admitted.

Tinystar peered at his black-pelted friend. "Can you do it?" he asked. "We can think of some other plan – there's no need to put yourself in-"

Ravenpaw shook his head, stating firmly, "There's no time to think of anything else. Jaggedtooth _won't_ recognize me, I know it. I can do it, Tinystar."

Tinystar frowned at his friend. "Alright," he decided. "Go ahead."

Ravenpaw nodded, his eyes shimmering with gratitude. The black tom waited until Jaggedtooth looked away before he strode confidently out of the reed bed, his tail high. Tinystar watched him go, huddled with Graystripe.

"Wow," Graystripe breathed. "It's like watching a totally different cat, isn't it?"

Tinystar nodded.

Jaggedtooth's eye caught on Ravenpaw. He got to his paws and thrust himself in front of the smaller cat, glaring down at him. "Who're you?" he growled. "What're you doing here? And… why do you _reek?_ "

"Think you know _every_ RiverClan cat, do you?" Ravenpaw chuckled, waving his tail. "I'm here to replace you – Bluestar's orders."

Jaggedtooth frowned. "Oh, really? I seem to recall Bluestar saying that only ShadowClan cats were to guard the prisoners…"

Lashing his tail crossly, Ravenpaw countered, "And here I heard that we were all one Clan now! There's no ShadowClan or RiverClan anymore, just LionClan, remember? Now – take this up with Bluestar if you like. I just want to get my shift started and over with! You think I want to watch these half-breeds all day?"

Jaggedtooth looked taken aback by Ravenpaw's tone. Tinystar wondered if the small black tom had gone too far – but the big tabby backed away, his tail-tip twitching.

"Yeah, sure," Jaggedtooth muttered. "Go right on ahead."

Ravenpaw drew himself up and nodded at Jaggedtooth, planting himself in front of the warren. Jaggedtooth slunk away, his eyes flickering with confusion and befuddlement. Ravenpaw kept his eyes on the tabby until he'd disappeared along one of the RiverClan hunting trails.

"That was amazing!" hissed Tinystar, coming out of the reeds. Graystripe launched himself past Ravenpaw and down into the warren. Tinystar touched his nose to Ravenpaw's. "How'd it feel?"

"Amazing!" Ravenpaw purred, his eyes shining. "I'd _never_ have been able to do something like that before I left the Clans. Oh, wow!"

Tinystar butted his head against Ravenpaw's shoulder and meowed, "We need to move fast. Keep a look out – Jaggedtooth might have gone to Bluestar."

Ravenpaw nodded.

Tinystar curled his lip at the reek coming from the rabbit warren. But the sound of mews from within drew him on. His small size let him fit into the entrance easily. He tried to keep his anxieties low – rabbit tunnels were tight squeezes, even for a cat as small as Tinystar.

As soon as Tinystar's whiskers detected an open space around him, he was bowled off his paws. He felt claws pricking his pelt and hot breath on his throat. Tinystar froze, his eyes still adjusting to the gloom.

"Silverstream!" Graystripe called. "It's okay – it's Tinystar!"

Tinystar blinked in shock as his eyes took in Silverstream. The she-cat had once been one of the most beautiful in the forest – but now she was thin and bedraggled, her ribs all but piercing through her dull, matted silver tabby coat. But her eyes burned with a fierce light, even as she picked herself off of Tinystar.

"I'm sorry," she admitted. "Graystripe came down and I thought you were LionClan cats chasing him…"

"It's all right," Tinystar told her. His heart pricked at her situation. "I'm glad you're safe."

"Safe!" scoffed a voice in the dark. Tinystar looked to its source – Tawnypelt, huddled in a corner of the hollowed-out warren. Her eyes flashed with pain and grief. "There's nothing safe about us right now."

Tinystar's heart ached for her. He looked to Graystripe and Silverstream, pressed together around Featherpaw and Stormpaw. The apprentices were hollow-eyed and quiet, trembling beside their parents. Tawnypelt padded up to them and pressed her muzzle to Featherpaw's, sorrow in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry about Brambleclaw," Tinystar meowed.

Tawnypelt only blinked. "He did what he had to do." Her voice was taut. "I just hope it was enough."

"What's going to happen now?" Stormpaw wondered, his voice trembling.

"We're getting you all out of here," Graystripe insisted, his eyes flashing. "Can you make the trip?"

Silverstream nodded. "My legs will take me anywhere, so long as it's far away from here."

"Seconded," Tawnypelt grunted.

Featherpaw and Stormpaw managed a purr, though fear sparked in their eyes.

"Guys?" Ravenpaw's voice called down the tunnel. "You need to hurry! I can smell LionClan!"

Tawnypelt's eyes flashed in the gloom. Tinystar bristled. "Go!" he hissed. "Hurry!"

Graystripe and Tinystar ushered the sick and hurt prisoners towards the exit. Silverstream led the way, with Featherpaw and Stormpaw just behind and Tawnypelt taking up the rear. Energy did seem to fill the weakened cats at the thought of escape – they scrambled out of the hole with gusto. Tinystar and Graystripe followed, urgency leaving Tinystar's anxieties no room to exist.

They broke into the evening light, which still seemed to stun the prisoners. They blinked their eyes until the light no longer pained them. Just another frustration for Tinystar, he figured – how long had they been in that hole, that sunlight hurt them so?

"We need to go!" Ravenpaw hissed.

"Who is this?" Tawnypelt wondered, her hackles raised as the smooth-pelted black tom.

Graystripe put himself in front of her. "It's Ravenpaw – he's a friend. We'll explain later! There's no time now."

Tawnypelt hesitated, but shut her jaws. Silverstream lapped at Stormpaw and Featherpaw, murmuring soothing words to the terror-stricken apprentices. LionClan scent was growing stronger – Tinystar looked at his party now and wondered just how much time they had.

"The stepping-stones," Tawnypelt meowed. "We need to get there, as soon as possible."

"Go," Tinystar insisted.

Together they delved back into the reed bed, bodies low and bellies touching the ground as they headed for the river. Panic pricked at Tinystar's paws – would these cats be able to swim if they had to? He doubted it – just stalking was making them pant.

The sun was a bright orange flash over the trees when a harsh cry screeched out: _"The prisoners have escaped!"_


	20. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

" _Make for the stepping-stones!" Tinystar screeched._ "Now!"

Tawnypelt bristled. "Leave us!" she insisted. "You'll never make it out of here dragging us along!"

Graystripe used his powerful shoulders to push the skinny she-cat forward. Tawnypelt's protests were weak and ineffective against Graystripe's strength. The determination in his eyes shone like fire. "I'm not leaving my mate and kits to die here!" he snarled. "And we aren't leaving you, either!"

Tinystar and Ravenpaw pressed the weakened cats near the river, running along their flank. Graystripe led the way, his striped gray tail held high as he plowed through the reed bed. There was no use in stealth now – the cats were running at full tilt, as fast as they could with their prisoners. Tinystar could hear the roar of their LionClan pursuers growing louder behind them.

He looked back. There were many familiar faces in the oncoming pack – Jaggedtooth, Blackclaw, Blackfoot… but no Stonepaw. It was too late now.

They reached the stepping-stones without incident – but it was here where they had to halt.

"Go!" Graystripe told the RiverClan cats. "We'll protect you!"

Silverstream gave her mate a grateful look – but she didn't make for the stepping-stones just yet. Tawnypelt went first, confidently crossing despite the danger and her own weakness. Silverstream ushered Featherpaw on after, promising to be right behind her when Featherpaw balked.

Tinystar could count his own heartbeats now, and his neck hurt from twisting to see just how close the LionClan cats were getting. Featherpaw hit the opposite shore, helped to her paws by Tawnypelt. Silverstream crossed next, turning to look anxiously over the river at her son.

"Come on, Stormpaw!" she called. "It's all right!"

Stormpaw dug his claws into the shore, his eyes wide. Graystripe nudged him.

"You need to move, son," he insisted. "There's no time to hesitate!" The cold determination that had ruled Graystripe before had been replaced by fatherly reassurance. Tinystar was proud of the cat his friend had become.

Stormpaw began making his way across the stones.

"Tinystar…" Ravenpaw mewed. "They're coming!"

Tinystar whirled. The LionClan cats – led by Russetfur and Blackfoot, now – were getting closer and closer. Tinystar, bristling, could almost see their whiskers. His mind raced – what would they do when the LionClan cats crashed on them like a wave?

"Guys! Hurry!" Graystripe called.

Tinystar turned. Graystripe was already on the stepping-stones, just one stone behind Stormpaw. There was space between Graystripe and the shore for the rest of them.

"Go," Tinystar assured, "I've got your back."

Ravenpaw nodded. He leaped onto the first stone, water splashing his paws. When Ravenpaw felt confident enough to move to the next, Tinystar made his move. The stone wobbled under his paws.

"Stormpaw, hurry!" called Silverstream. "You can make it!"

Tinystar leaned over to look ahead. Stormpaw was hesitating on the final jump. He started at the sound of his mother's voice and leaped – only to fall short. He yelped as water filled his mouth. Silverstream screeched.

Graystripe, his fur bristling, slid into the water like a fish. He paddled confidently out to Stormpaw, using his body to brace his son against the current. Stormpaw floundered, but soon gained his paws – together, Graystripe and Stormpaw made for the shore.

Ravenpaw let out a sigh of relief. He made the last few jumps easily, landing on the shore with all four paws as if he'd crossed the stepping-stones many times before.

Tinystar moved to jump to the next stone – but claws on his haunches nearly made him slip. He turned on the stone to find Russetfur just behind him, claws out and teeth bared.

"Get back here, ThunderClan filth!" she spat.

"Not in your life!" Tinystar threw back. He lashed out with his claws, catching Russetfur on the nose. The split in her skin sprayed blood into the air. Russetfur backed up, wobbled on her stone, and then lunged.

She rammed right into Tinystar, forcing him into the water.

Calm though the river was, there was nothing calm about two cats battling while triyng to keep their heads above water. Russetfur's teeth dug into Tinystar's ruff as she pushed him below the surface. Tinystar struggled against her, grating his claws against her pelt under the water.

He must have caught something, as blood floated through the water and Russetfur let him go. Tinystar's head broke the surface and he gasped for breath, blinking water out of his eyes. He felt Russetfur's claws attempting to scrape at his pelt in the water – but she was flailing and trying to keep herself afloat as well.

Tinystar moved away from her easily. His own experience with swimming far outweighed Russetfur's. Rather than try to battle her in the water, Tinystar turned his body and made for the shore.

Ravenpaw helped him out of the river, his jaws far gentler than Russetfur's in his scruff. Tinystar shook out his pelt and sighed, feeling sodden, sore, and hungry. But he looked back across the river and saw LionClan warriors carefully making their way across the river. The stepping-stones could only fit one cat each but the RiverClan warriors in the bunch were beginning to slide themselves into the water.

"Get ready to run," Tinystar rasped. "As fast as you can. Ravenpaw – you need to run ahead and warn the Clan that -"

"Get away from our border, LionClan fleabags!"

Cloudtail burst through the undergrowth, fur bristling and jaws open wide in a caterwaul. Sandstorm and Swiftfoot streamed out of the bushes behind her, claws out and tails bushed. Cloudtail made straight for the stepping-stones, planting herself firmly before them and lashing out with her claws at the nearest warrior. Swiftfoot and Sandstorm covered the shoreline, their claws nicking RiverClan swimmers as they tried to surface. Chaos churned the water as Cloudtail knocked Jaggedtooth into the river.

"Retreat!" screeched Russetfur. Sodden, on the other side of the river, the she-cat glared over at Tinystar with eyes like claws. "LionClan won't forget this, Tinystar!"

Tinystar squared his shoulders. "Neither will we!" he snapped back.

"Tell Bluestar she can chew on what we leave in the dirtplace!" Cloudtail snarled crudely. "That's the only fresh-kill fit for her!"

Russetfur let out a yowl of rage – but she turned tail and fled into the reeds with the rest of her pursuit patrol. Cloudtail turned to face the others, her face beaming with pride.

"You need to stop talking with Cinderpelt," Swiftfoot sighed, shaking water off his paws. "I didn't think your tongue could get any more crude, but it has!"

Cloudtail purred, puffing her chest out proudly.

Tinystar brushed his muzzle against Sandstorm. "Are you hurt?" his mate breathed. "Your flanks!"

"Russetfur," Tinystar explained. "Don't worry – the fur will grow back before the snow sticks, I'm sure."

Sandstorm wound around him, checking him over as if she were his own personal medicine cat. As she did, Tinystar made sure to check her, too. No LionClan cat had harmed her – but how could they, when Sandstorm's strikes had been so fast?

"Look at you all," Cloudtail sighed, looking at the skinny RiverClan cats. "You're a mess!"

"Probably starving," Swiftfoot agreed.

"We're taking them back to camp with us," Tinystar decided.

Tawnypelt's tail twitched. Of all the escapees, she seemed the most concerned for the whole of them – Silverstream and Graystripe were fretting over their kits. "Is that wise?" Tawnypelt asked.

"It's the only option we have," Tinystar meowed. "Let's go."

* * *

The patrol made their way through the forest. Graystripe and Cloudtail led the way, while Swiftfoot and Sandstorm and Tinystar encircled the ragged band of LionClan prisoners. Sandstorm pressed herself against Tinystar, her fur fluffed up to block against the cold air that threatened to turn Tinystar's soaked fur to ice.

"What… happened?" Sandstorm wondered. Her tone was gentle, but Tinystar sensed a sharp edge. "Back there, I mean. What were you thinking? What were you _doing?"_

"Graystripe was worried about his kits," Tinystar explained quietly. Ahead, Graystripe and Silverstream were padding together, their pelts as one. "So we went to see if we could spot any sign of them being okay."

"And you approved that?" Sandstorm breathed. "That's so… mouse-brained!"

Tinystar purred half-heartedly. "When have I been anything but mouse-brained?" he countered. "Anyway – I wanted to see if I could find Stonepaw, too."

"You didn't."

"I didn't." Tinystar frowned. The pang of disappointment in his heart was dull. "We saw… something terrible." Brambleclaw's mud-covered body, his blood soaking into the earth, flitted through Tinystar's mind. "I'll explain it to the Clan. We had to get them out of there."

Sandstorm's tail tip flicked. "You intend to welcome them into ThunderClan?"

"They have nowhere else to go," Tinystar pointed out.

"I know!" Sandstorm agreed. "But it's leaf-bare. We're going to have a hard time feeding ourselves, let alone a group of starved cats who have no idea how to hunt in a forest."

"They'll be killed if they return," Tinystar told her. "We'll find a way. We have to."

The group picked their way down the ravine. From the top, Tinystar could see the Clan begin to react to the scents blowing towards them – crow-food, sickness, and something like RiverClan. Fur was bristling, and Tinystar spotted Whitestorm forming the Clan together through the lifeless branches.

Graystripe and Silverstream pushed through the gorse barrier first. Cloudtail and Tawnypelt came after. Ravenpaw guided Stormpaw and Featherpaw through with encouraging words, and Sandstorm and Tinystar took up the rear. By the time they entered the camp, ThunderClan seemed as appraised of the situation as a first glance could make them.

"You've some explaining to do, it seems," Whitestorm surmised, his sandy eyes taking in the group without judgment.

"I do," Tinystar meowed, "and I will. For now, find some fresh-kill for these cats. They're starving on their paws."

Whitestorm's ear flicked. "I can see that." He turned away to attend to the duty.

Cloudtail and Swiftfoot did their best to keep the Clan from hounding the former prisoners. The RiverClan cats seemed shocked at being looked at by so many cats, huddling together. Graystripe raised his tail to them, his eyes sparkling with reassurance and a happiness Tinystar could not deny had not been there for seasons. Brackenfur hobbled forward and began to examine the sodden cats, sniffing at their paws and their pelts.

"Tinystar!" called Mistypaw. The gray she-cat pushed her way through the crowd. "You were in LionClan territory! Did you see Stonepaw? Is he here?" Behind her, Mosspaw's eyes widened as she looked through the returning cats.

Tinystar's heart caught in his throat. "No, Mistypaw. I'm so sorry," he breathed. "There was no sign of him."

Tawnypelt's ear flicked. "Stonepaw?" she asked. Mistypaw's eyes surged with hope as she looked at the dappled she-cat. Tawnypelt frowned. "I'm sorry, Mistypaw – Stonepaw is in LionClan. I never got to get close to him… but he seemed happy."

Any type of hope drained from Mistypaw and Mosspaw's faces. Tinystar's heart sank. At Tawnypelt's words, the cats in the clearing grew silent, all of them glancing warily at Mistypaw and Mosspaw. Mistypaw threw back her head and let out a wail of despair. Mosspaw was speechless, her whiskers trembling.

Tinystar swallowed the lump in his throat. He wrapped his tail around his apprentice, feeling her weight press against him as she sagged to her belly.

"What will she do to him?" Oakheart wondered hoarsely. The tabby tom was just as defeated as his daughters. "What… What do we do now?"

"What we can," Tinystar answered. "What we must."

He swallowed. Tinystar raised his voice to his Clan: "Gather under the Highrock. For now… we need to figure out what all this means for the future."


	21. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

" _Cats of ThunderClan!" Tinystar called. "I'm_ sure you all have an idea of what has happened."

He looked down at his Clanmates, clustered around the Highrock. Tawnypelt, Silverstream, Stormpaw and Featherpaw were huddled together in the middle of the throng, their stark skinniness so different from the cats around them even in leaf-bare. Tinystar could see the sharp lines of their shoulders poking through their once-sleek fur, even as darkness began to envelop the clearing.

"Graystripe, Ravenpaw, and I infiltrated LionClan territory," Tinystar went on. "What we saw was horrific – they've built a hill out of old prey-bones! We came across a gruesome Clan meeting, where Brambleclaw, Stormpaw, and Featherpaw were dragged out to face justice for the crime of being born half-Clan."

The cats below were bristling, eyes wide. Tawnypelt leaned against Silverstream, her eyes downcast.

Tinystar swallowed. "We watched as Brambleclaw was put on trial. He was forced to fight to his brutal and unjust death," he went on solemnly. "We had thought to rescue both Stonepaw and Graystripe's family, but once we saw Brambleclaw be slaughtered like prey, we had to do something more. So we took it upon ourselves to liberate Tawnypelt and the other prisoners from LionClan."

"That's… horrific!" Whitestorm breathed, his eyes widening. "How could they…?"

Mousefur was bristling. "Say what you will about those who mate outside their Clans, but to take it out on the kits?"

"It's not as if they have a choice!" Cinderpelt snapped. "Leopardstar actually _allowed_ this?!"

"Outrageous!" growled Dustpelt. His tail was bristling and his claws slid in and out. "What kind of leader is such a monster?"

"Someone who would take up with Bluestar," answered Oakheart. His shoulders were hunched. "We're looking at a cat worse than Brokentail ever was."

Murmurs of unease spread through the Clan at Oakheart's words. Tinystar frowned down at his Clanmates. He had to admit that Oakheart was right – Brokentail had been a menace in the forest, forcing kits to fight and driving out WindClan… but Bluestar's list of crimes stretched behind her like a shadow, and she was just getting started.

"I don't think Leopardstar is as behind all this as you think," Ravenpaw spoke up. The Clan looked to him, eyes narrowing. The Ravenpaw of old would have flinched at the attention, but the Ravenpaw of now straightened his shoulders. "We could see her unease with what was happening – and the RiverClan cats didn't seem pleased, either."

Graystripe nodded in agreement. "Leopardstar is a pain in the tail, but she's not mouse-brained. She bit off more than she could chew with Bluestar, that much is clear."

"But can she do anything about it?" questioned Longtail. He glanced up at Tinystar and went on meaningfully, "It's harder than you think to escape out from under Bluestar's claws."

Tinystar shifted his paws uncomfortably. _He's right,_ he thought, recalling the look in Leopardstar's eye as she sat with the dead body of her deputy. _She's trapped._

"It doesn't matter now," Whitestorm meowed. He turned to face the whole Clan. "We need to build up the RiverClan cats' strength, and prepare for a possible retaliation from LionClan."

Tinystar was proud of his Clan as they nodded in agreement. None of them seemed to question the thought that the RiverClan cats were staying – where else would they go?

Tawnypelt spoke up from below: "We don't intend to get fat off of your prey without hunting some for ourselves," she stated. "Give us a task, Tinystar. We'll help you any way we can." Beside her, Silverstream and the apprentices all nodded enthusiastically. The life was returning to their eyes at the thought of getting strong enough to fight back.

"Brackenfur will check you all out and make sure you're healthy enough for patrols and hunting," Tinystar meowed, "but once you're clear to go, your aid would be welcome."

"I'd like to get back to training Featherpaw, too," Tawnypelt added. "The apprentices have been stagnating in that hole and their claws need to be sharp."

Tinystar nodded in agreement. "You have access to our training hollow," he promised. "Sandstorm!"

"Yes?" she wondered.

"Will you take over Stormpaw's training?"

Sandstorm stood up on her paws. "Of course."

"Good," Tinystar meowed. It would be temporary, but mentoring Stormpaw might make Sandstorm feel better about losing Stonepaw, especially now that it seemed as if Stonepaw was very unlikely to return.

"What about Stonepaw?" Mosspaw wondered, as if she could read his mind. "Are we going to go after him?"

"Why?" Dustpelt bristled. "You heard Tawnypelt – he's _happy_ in LionClan!"

"You don't know that for sure!" Mistypaw snapped back, standing up beside her sister. "He was practically kidnapped from our territory!"

"There's nothing we can do right now," Tinystar lamented to his apprentice. "We've already angered LionClan. With their advantage in numbers, it would be too much of a risk for the Clan to try and bring Stonepaw home so soon after Tawnypelt and the others. It wasn't the result we intended, but I'm hoping to StarClan there will be a way to speak with him when things have calmed down."

Mousefur frowned. "Would you welcome him back if he wanted to come?" she asked tightly.

Tinystar could feel Mistypaw, Oakheart, and Mosspaw's eyes on him from below. "If that's what he wants," he meowed, "then I will welcome him home as a Clanmate. But if LionClan is where he wishes to stay… then there is nothing I can do."

Swallowing, Tinystar added, "Now – we need to rest and prepare ourselves. It's inevitable that LionClan will retaliate. We need to fortify ourselves even more for when it happens. Things seem impossible, but we are ThunderClan! We have faced the impossible before, and come out fine."

His Clanmates tipped their heads and yowled, "ThunderClan! ThunderClan!" into the night sky.

Feeling more confident, Tinystar bounded down the Highrock. The ground was cold beneath his paws. No cat had made mention of how hard it would be to feed four extra mouths during leaf-bare. _We may have four more mouths,_ Tinystar thought, _but also four more sets of claws. Four more cats to help fortify us against LionClan, four more cats to help feed us._

 _That can't be a bad thing._

Ravenpaw and Graystripe met him in the clearing.

"I need to head back," Ravenpaw admitted. "It was fun to help you out, but Barley's going to be missing me."

"Tell WindClan what's transpired, if you can," Tinystar asked. He was sad to see Ravenpaw go, but he knew that ThunderClan was not where the loner belonged. "And have Dustpelt or Mousefur show you to Tigerstar's grave."

Ravenpaw dipped his head. "I think you'll make a great leader, Tinystar," he meowed solemnly. "I think… you have something Tigerstar never did."

Tinystar's ears burned. "Like what?" he wondered, chuckling.

Ravenpaw looked serious. "Tigerstar… he gave up a lot to be leader of ThunderClan. It showed. You… this seems like something you were born to do."

Graystripe nodded in agreement.

Tinystar was taken aback – but he touched his nose to Ravenpaw's in farewell. The sleek black cat slipped through the crowd like a fish, stopping to speak to Mousefur before heading through the gorse tunnel and out into the night.

"He's so different," Graystripe breathed. "I know I keep saying that, but… it's hard to get over."

"It really is," Tinystar agreed.

"Tinystar!"

Tinystar turned his head to see Silverstream approaching. She was still a very beautiful cat, despite her injuries and hunger. She held her head up high and proud, just like Tinystar remembered. She was stubborn and smart-mouthed, and Graystripe loved her with every bit of him he could.

"Silverstream," Tinystar greeted. "What is it?"

"There must be something I can do," Silverstream stated. "I know you said that we'd do normal warrior duties, but I'm a guest here. I'd like to do more to earn my place."

Graystripe's eyes sparkled at the thought, and he looked eagerly at Tinystar, almost as if he were begging. Tinystar swallowed.

"The elders and Willowpelt could always use help," Tinystar decided. "Willowpelt's kits are a pawful – I'm sure she'd like another eye on them. And freeing up the apprentices for more training would do them good. Are you all right with that?"

Silverstream nodded. "That would be just fine."

Graystripe looked pleased. "Here, let me show you the way," he purred.

Together they crossed the clearing, heads bent low and talking quietly. Tinystar frowned at them, at how some cats couldn't help but throw skeptical looks at the couple. Would Silverstream being here in ThunderClan be a good thing for Graystripe? What would happen when the RiverClan cats had to return home?

Still, it seemed like the Clan was taking it all in stride. Tinystar yawned, exhaustion tugging at his limbs. In his gut, Tinystar knew he'd done the right thing welcoming the RiverClan cats into the Clan. They seemed to be integrating almost immediately, Tawnypelt and the apprentices at the forefront of the cats gathered around Whitestorm to hear of tomorrow's assignments.

Tinystar looked around, spotting Mistypaw heading for the apprentice's den. Mosspaw must have been busy with Brackenfur. Tinystar trotted over to her, stopping his apprentice before she slipped into her den with a mew.

Mistypaw turned to face him, her tail low and her eyes full of sorrow. Tinystar's heart hurt at the sight.

"Talk to me," he offered immediately.

Mistypaw opened her jaws, then shut them hopelessly. Tinystar blinked. Was she so mad that she felt she couldn't talk to him? _Does Mistypaw hate me now?_

"I feel so… betrayed," Mistypaw said, her voice faint. "Do… Do you really think he's happy in LionClan? With _her?"_

Tinystar licked his shoulder, searching for words. "It's possible," he meowed after a moment, "that Bluestar and Darkstripe manipulated him… got in his head until Stonepaw agreed to join them. But… Stonepaw had just as much warning about it all as you did. I don't think this was a decision he made lightly."

"But did he make it at all?" Mistypaw wondered. "You said that Darkstripe dragged him over the stepping-stones. What if he really didn't want to go?"

"Maybe he didn't… but I was there, Mistypaw." Tinystar looked down at his apprentice with sympathy. "Some part of him wanted to leave." He touched his nose to Mistypaw's forehead. "We'll talk to him when we can – at a Gathering, maybe. Until then… have faith in him. That's all we can do."

Mistypaw swallowed. "Okay," she sighed. "I will."

"He'll always be your brother," Tinystar assured her. "I'm sure he still loves you and Mosspaw."

Mistypaw didn't reply. She got to her paws and made for the apprentice's den, looking tired – but she stopped, her ears pricked.

"Tinystar…" she began. "Do you hear -"

The gorse shook furiously. Tinystar bristled, unsheathing his claws. The cats in the clearing got to their paws, alert and bristling, eyes wide and claws unsheathed as a dark brown shape thrust through the gorse.

"T-Tinystar!" spat the lean tom. _Mudclaw!_ Tinystar thought, the scent of WindClan crossing his nose. The tom was ragged, his fur torn in places. Blood from a wound on his head kept one of Mudclaw's eyes closed. "It's… It's LionClan!"

"What?" Whitestorm meowed, shooting an alarmed glance at Tinystar before demanding, "Take a breath, Mudclaw – what's happened?"

Mudclaw's eye was wild. "LionClan is attacking us!"


	22. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 _Tinystar sucked in a deep breath._ The cold air stung his lungs and Tinystar's paws burned against the long grass. Heather was still in the night air, frosting over as the stars winked above. Dawn was breaking somewhere beyond Mothermouth, its pink streaks barely touching the sky.

"How much can we do?" Graystripe panted beside him. "Mudclaw was injured badly – it had to have taken him ages to get to us."

"They must have gone out to attack right after you came back," Cinderpelt added. Beside her, Dustpelt's claws flexed in the long grass. Cinderpelt's eyes glittered. "No doubt they sought to punish someone for that."

Tinystar did his best to keep his spine from bristling. If this attack on WindClan was somehow _his_ fault… He swallowed.

"We need to go," Cloudtail hissed impatiently. "Or there really won't be a WindClan left to save!"

Tinystar nodded in agreement. He glanced back at his warriors – all eager to be going, eyes glittering. Even Dustpelt, who would have scoffed at helping another Clan, was behind Tinystar on this. Ashpaw was bouncing on his paws, eager to be at one of his first true battles. Any one of these cats would follow him into the brink.

"Let's go," Tinystar ordered.

He took off into the hills, hoping deep in his bones that WindClan hadn't been driven from the forest again.

* * *

The sky was streaked with dawn light as Tinystar and his patrol stumbled into the WindClan camp. They picked their way around the broken, tangled gorse wall, their paws slotting into invader's pawsteps in the cold earth. The air reeked of blood and LionClan, swamping WindClan's scent in their own camp. Fear rose above it all as some cat wailed in the disarray.

"We're too late," hissed Cloudtail.

Tinystar swallowed as he realized his niece was correct. His eyes adjusted to the destroyed Clan in the half-light. Torn fur littered the stamped-down peat, settling in splatters of blood. The gorse walls clung on by their roots – those that hadn't been ripped out, that is. Cats lay in the clearing, wounded and exhausted. Even Barkface was limping across the camp from a wound in his hind leg.

"Check the perimeter," Tinystar ordered his warriors, his voice tight. "Any lingering LionClan cats need to be driven away immediately – and check for any scattered WindClan cats, too."

"As you say," Dustpelt grunted. The brown tabby warrior raised his tail and took off, the rest of the patrol streaming behind him. They clambered through the gorse mess and disappeared down the hill.

Tinystar's tail bristled. He looked around the clearing, searching for any cat that was still moving. There was a flash of fur in an abandoned rabbit warren – a queen emerged with her kits clustered around her paws. Tinystar's heart lifted – at least the kits were okay. The queen bristled, racing across the clearing to one of the fallen warriors.

Some cat wailed – but it was not the queen, at least.

"Welcome, Tinystar."

Tinystar stiffened. Tallstar's voice was weak and tired – Tinystar hadn't even noticed the old warrior shuffling up to his side. Tinystar pressed against Tallstar's bony frame, hoping to keep the leader on his paws.

"I'm glad Mudclaw got to you," Tallstar rasped.

"We were too late," Tinystar breathed. "I'm so sorry."

Tallstar shook his head. "They came so quickly – the hope for help was slim to begin with," he admitted. "The fact that you came at all is nothing short of StarClan's aid."

"I sent my warriors to search for any stragglers outside the camp," Tinystar meowed. "I hope that was alright."

Tallstar's shoulders heaved as he chuckled. "We may be proud, but we do know when we need aid," he purred. "Thank you – though I doubt they'll find anything."

The same cat wailed again, grief edging their cry.

"We need to get back on our paws," Tallstar admitted. "Figure out who is fit. And… ah… Bluestar left us a message."

Tinystar bristled. "I think this is message enough!" he grunted.

Tallstar's long tail swept over the clearing. "Indeed it is," Tallstar agreed. "Bluestar has made it clear that this is what will befall us if we do not capitulate and join LionClan."

Tinystar bared his teeth at the thought. "I won't let it happen," he snarled. "I've seen what LionClan is, Tallstar – it is no true Clan!"

"I know," Tallstar said softly. "No Clan would ever visit such destruction upon another like this." His eyes hardened as they locked with Tinystar's – pale gold into icy blue. "We must join forces – like a Tiger, to defeat this Lion in our midst. It is the only way we can stop LionClan."

Tinystar swallowed, shocked by Tallstar's words. Had the old leader seen the same prophecy that Tinystar had? _This is what StarClan meant, then – that Tallstar and I must form TigerClan to defeat LionClan,_ he thought. _But what about the Fire?_

Tallstar did not have that answer, it seemed. "Come with me," he breathed. "I need to see to my Clanmates."

Another wail split the air, ragged and tired, as Tinystar and Tallstar padded around the WindClan camp together. Barkface was limping between injured cats, his breath coming in hoarse gasps as he tried to keep up with the wounded. Even the apprentices lay still, blood matting their windblown fur. No cat seemed strong enough to take up the mantle of leader and put themselves back together.

They passed a mottled bunch of fur. "Oh, Tawnyfur," Tallstar breathed, touching his nose to the warrior's shoulder. "You were such a good warrior. StarClan bring you peace."

Tinystar swallowed a lump in his throat, staring down at the dead warrior. How many of those still bodies would breathe no more of this clear moorland air? Yet as they walked, Tinystar's spirits lifted – Tawnyfur seemed to be the worst of it. Most cats were simply in shock, their eyes glazed but their flanks moving.

Morningflower sent up another wail just as Tinystar and Tallstar approached her. There was a soft shape before the old queen's paws – ginger and white fur, still kitten-soft. _Oh, no,_ Tinystar thought, grief clutching at his heart.

"Poor Gorsepaw," Tallstar sighed. He rested his tail along the dead apprentice's flanks.

"Bluestar _butchered_ him!" Morningflower cried, her eyes pools of unending sorrow as they bored into Tinystar. "You brought him over the Thunderpaths for _this,_ Tinystar! How could they be so cruel?!"

Tinystar could only rest his muzzle against Morningflower's shoulder. The queen sagged, her breaths choked with grief. He could only look down at the strong, stocky body before him and think of the little kitten that had dangled from his jaws in the rain as he, Graystripe, and Oakheart led WindClan home.

"We cannot let this continue," Onewhisker rasped. The lean warrior had pulled himself to his paws to mourn his apprentice with Morningflower. He looked pleadingly at Tallstar. "We have to stop LionClan!"

Morningflower's claws dug into the earth. "I would rather _die_ than walk with those murdering snakes!" she spat viciously.

"I know," Tallstar murmured.

"What should we do?" Tinystar wondered, pulling away from Morningflower. He stared into Tallstar's eyes – hoping that the leader's seasons of experience would help in this horrific scenario.

Tallstar shook his head. "We have too little time," he admitted. "Bluestar has laid out her terms – our Clans must meet her LionClan in Fourtrees tomorrow, at dawn. If we do not agree to join them there…" his tail swept over the clearing again. "She has made it clear what will happen."

"I'd rather rot in the Place of No Stars," Tinystar swore.

"As would I," Tallstar rasped.

"Then we have our answer," Onewhisker pointed out.

Tallstar nodded at his warrior. His pale eyes rested on Tinystar. "We are agreed, then – we as TigerClan will meet LionClan at Fourtrees at dawn tomorrow. May StarClan watch over us."


	23. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

 _Evening shadows crowded beneath the trees._ The ferns and brambles rustled gently in the faint, cold breeze. The sun was setting in a blaze of fire over the treetops, oranges and reds and yellows all blended together, touching the wisps of clouds that hung in the sky. Frost sparkled on a nearby stone.

Tinystar and Sandstorm huddled together on a patch of soft earth, their tails twined. Sandstorm gently cleaned dust off of her paw with smooth, rhythmic strokes of her tongue. Tinystar watched her intently, absorbing himself in every detail of her long muzzle, her neatly-shaped head, the curve of her ear and the way it twitched when she unsheathed her claws to clean between them. She was so…

"It's a beautiful night," Sandstorm admitted between licks.

"Not as beautiful as you," Tinystar said gently.

The day had been tense, every cat acutely aware of what had happened in the WindClan camp and what was coming all too soon. As much as Tinystar had wanted the day to last forever, time moved all too fast. Tinystar and Sandstorm had taken the evening patrol together, just the two of them. A quiet walk through a quiet forest, observing quiet borders and the quiet world around them. The calm before the storm.

It had been perfect.

"What do you think tomorrow will bring?" Tinystar wondered.

He knew what it would be – the climax of all these seasons of warring with Bluestar, of Tinystar's destiny. One way or another, one of them wouldn't leave Fourtrees alive. The weight of it all pressed down on Tinystar's shoulders. _Even the tiniest cat can change everything,_ the medicine cats had prophesised. _Four will become two, Lion and Tiger will meet in battle, and Fire will devour the forest,_ StarClan had told Tinystar in his dreams.

 _The Lion and Tiger have taken shape,_ Tinystar thought. _And I am undoubtedly that tiny cat who will change everything…_ Whatever the Fire was, they would undoubtedly find out sooner rather than later. There was no more time to speculate… and there was some calmness to that.

"There will be a battle," Tinystar went on.

"I know," Sandstorm agreed. She had stopped grooming her paws. "ThunderClan will bear the worst of it, too – WindClan cannot possibly field many fighting fit warriors after that attack."

 _Not to mention their losses,_ Tinystar thought. _Tawnyfur and Gorsepaw can only watch from StarClan as WindClan struggles for the fate of the forest without them._

"I'd fight with them until the end," Tinystar murmured. "Even so."

Sandstorm leaned against him, resting her cheek against his cheek. "I love you, Tinystar. With all my heart, I know you can bring us out of this."

 _Can I?_ Tinystar wondered. This would be the hardest task he'd ever faced – everything that had come before felt like an apprentice's training task. Not even the dogs felt as much of a threat to the forest as Bluestar and LionClan.

He looked up at the sky, at the stars just beginning to twinkle in the indigo plane. Silverpelt was starting to take shape far above, and one star shone more brightly than all the others.

 _Is that you, Tigerstar?_ Tinystar wondered. _Please… help me find the strength to protect not just ThunderClan… but the whole forest, too._

* * *

"There you are! I was getting worried," Whitestorm admitted, meeting Sandstorm and Tinystar as they padded through the gorse tunnel. The old warrior's white fur glowed in the darkness like a second, smaller moon.

Tinystar bent his head to smooth down the fur on his shoulders. "We're fine," he mewed. "The forest is so quiet right now, not even prey is stirring."

"A shame," Whitestorm decided. He glanced at the small fresh-kill pile. "We could use a mouse or three."

Tinystar tried to avoid looking at the nearly-empty fresh-kill pile. Just a stale wood pigeon was left. Taking in the half-Clan prisoners from LionClan had been the right thing, but even in leaf-bare their help wouldn't make prey appear in any greater number. Still, they seemed to be settling in well, and Tinystar wasn't about to kick them out.

"You ought to get some rest," Whitestorm went on. "I'll go and check on the sentries."

Tinystar dipped his head in acknowledgement. Whitestorm slipped by, his steps slow but steady. The old warrior had suggested setting up permanent sentries around the camp walls, ready to deliver warning of an ambush. Tinystar had been very glad for the suggestion, especially after returning from WindClan's devastated camp.

"There really was no better choice for your deputy," Sandstorm commented, watching her old mentor disappear into the gorse tunnel. "Whitestorm is doing very well."

"I'd be lost without him," Tinystar admitted freely. "He's helped me so much, for so many seasons. I hope he can serve me for seasons more."

Sandstorm stiffened, frowning. "Tinystar… you know as well as I do that Whitestorm's not as young as he used to be. He was old when we were apprentices. All of ThunderClan might have to cope without him, sooner rather than later. Cats are going to _die_ tomorrow."

Tinystar's breath caught in his throat. "I know," he rasped. The thought threatened to push him off his paws – he'd seen death multiple times since he'd come to the Clans, but now… now he felt an ever greater responsibility for that death, as Clan leader. "There's nothing I can do now…" he decided grimly.

"I know," Sandstorm agreed. "You can only do what you think is right – you're Clan leader now. We'll follow you to wherever you lead. So far… I think you've been brilliant."

Tinystar looked into her eyes, open and honest and so, so green… and couldn't help but glow at her praise.

Wordlessly, together, they padded across the clearing. Cats were restless all around, some practicing battle moves in the night shadows, unable to sleep – others talking quietly, their tails twitching as their conversations grew emotional. Tinystar spotted Snowpaw and Brightheart in the elder's den, curled up against Speckletail, their mother. The air was filled with tension at the coming dawn.

Tinystar and Sandstorm slid into the leader's den in the hollow of the Highrock, the lichen draping over their shoulders as if to greet them. Inside, Tinystar and Sandstorm's nest was plumped and freshened, the smell of Mistypaw faint in the den. A rabbit lay waiting, smelling fresh. _Whitestorm,_ Tinystar thought, grateful to his deputy.

Together the two cats curled up in their nest. Sandstorm pulled the rabbit over, and, after a silent prayer of thanks to StarClan for the meal, they tucked in. They ate in a cozy silence, Sandstorm's fur driving away the chill that threatened to overtake the cool rocks that surrounded them. When they were done they groomed each other just as silently, taking their time and tenderly cleaning themselves of their day.

"Good night," Tinystar said when they were finished. All was silent in the camp outside as night closed its grip on the forest. Tinystar licked Sandstorm between the ears, slowly and carefully, never more grateful that she was by his side. "I love you more than anything."

Sandstorm purred. "You mouse-brain," she teased. Sandstorm stretched herself out, extending her long legs before tucking them beneath her. "You know I'll always be at your side."

It wasn't long before her soft, regular breathing told Tinystar that his mate was sleeping. Tinystar watched her, curling his tail around her soft, pale ginger body. Sandstorm had been so fiery and sharp when they met, and he was grateful that she hadn't changed herself for him. He grateful for the bond they shared.

 _It might all go away tomorrow,_ a tiny voice said in Tinystar's head. _She might not come back with you._

Tinystar tried not to stiffen at the thought. The battle tomorrow would be destructive and change the entire balance of the forest – and many cats would not walk away from it alive. Every cat in ThunderClan flashed before Tinystar's eyes as he began to perilously imagine his life going on without them. Graystripe, his best friend. Longtail, a surprising confidant. Mistypaw, his apprentice. Whitestorm and Oakheart, two great, wise toms…

… and Sandstorm. The love of all nine of his lives. What if she died tomorrow?

He swallowed. _I had no idea before what the burden of leadership truly was,_ he thought, watching Sandstorm's flanks rise and fall. _To watch these cats follow my orders to their deaths. To die for them myself, nine times._ He felt foolish and arrogant for his time as deputy, thinking that what he'd done then had been true leadership.

 _Does any leader really get over this feeling?_ He wondered, resting his head on his paws. A scent crossed his nose – familiar, reassuring. Redtail. _Does any cat,_ he thought to the spirit, if he could listen, _does any leader really forget all that their Clan does at their word?_

Tinystar could feel Redtail's breath touching his ear. _"Your destiny is upon you, Tinystar,"_ the spirit murmured as Tinystar's eyes slid closed.

" _Fire is coming."_


	24. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

 _Tinystar's sleep was disturbed with fretful_ dreams – none of which really related to what was coming when he woke, but were filled with a growing ominous presence that made Tinystar feel uncomfortable and unsafe nonetheless.

" _Fire is coming"_ – Redtail's words echoed in the breeze of his dreams, and when Tinystar woke the words filled his ears.

 _Is Fire the battle to come?_ He wondered.

Tinystar yawned and did his best to stretch without disturbing Sandstorm. He'd let her sleep a little while longer – at least her dreams looked peaceful. He slipped out of their nest and out into the clearing.

Dawn would not break for some time yet. Tinystar looked up at the position of the moon and stars. There was still a good amount of time for preparation, and for the trip to Fourtrees. The entire forest was blanketed in the quiet of night – though the world didn't really know what was going to happen today, Tinystar wondered if all of nature was holding its breath.

He found Whitestorm easily. There weren't many warriors up and about even at this time. The white warrior's pelt glowed in the night like a small moon.

"You won't be coming with us today," Tinystar declared.

Whitestorm's ear flicked. "Oh?"

"I want you here," Tinystar went on. He stared into the big white tom's pale yellow eyes, ringed with age. "Someone has to get the kits and elders out of here if things go badly."

Whitestorm's eyes darkened. "I am old, Tinystar; but I do still have claws."

Tinystar frowned. "ThunderClan wouldn't survive without you," he breathed, desperate for the humble old deputy to understand. "They need you!"

Whitestorm's tail touched Tinystar's shoulder. "ThunderClan is not just one cat, Tinystar – it is all of us, together, fighting and hunting and lending our strength to one another as warriors and comrades and families."

Tinystar's whiskers twitched, touched by the wise warrior's words.

"Take all the strength you need," Whitestorm went on. "The queens still have claws to fight with – even the elders would join you. Brightheart and Swiftfoot are a formidable pair. This camp will be well defended with us."

Tinystar brushed his forehead against Whitestorm's chin, purring. "Thank you, Whitestorm," he meowed. "For this, and for everything."

He pulled away from the deputy. Time was passing, and warriors and apprentices were beginning to stir more fervently. Longtail appeared from the warrior's den, crossed the clearing, and began to dole out what prey was left from the pile. ThunderClan lined up silently for their share, their eyes all filled with determination.

Tinystar crossed the clearing to the medicine cat's den, pushing aside the ferns with his shoulders. Brackenfur and Mosspaw were inside, surrounded by piles of herbs and strips of bark and leaves. Mosspaw was reciting herbs and their uses as she passed them to Brackenfur to put into packages.

"Horsetail for infection," Mosspaw mewed, pushing a bundle of stalks towards Brackenfur. "We'd normally use marigold, but we're out for the season."

Brackenfur nodded. "Dock, next," he mewed.

"We're very short on it," Mosspaw warned, pulled over a pile of broad leaves.

"We'll just have to stretch it thin, then," Brackenfur decided. "Something is better than nothing."

"Are you prepared?" Tinystar wondered.

Brackenfur did not look up from his attentive bundling. "There's no such thing as being fully prepared," he answered. "There isn't enough cobweb in the forest for what's to come. But we're getting everything we can together for the wounded."

"You'll have Barkface's help, too," Tinystar pointed out.

"Yes," Brackenfur agreed, "but I'm not expecting him to have as good a stock as we do, after that ambush."

Tinystar winced. Brackenfur was right – WindClan would be leaning on not just Tinystar's warriors for support, but Brackenfur too. How much supply did Barkface use on their wounded? And there certainly weren't many cats fit to go and collect herbs that Tinystar saw.

"Redtail spoke to me last night," Tinystar declared.

"Oh?" Brackenfur mused.

"Oh?!" Mosspaw breathed, her eyes wide with astonishment. "Really?"

Brackenfur shot her a warning look, and Mosspaw lowered her head to her task. Tinystar frowned. There was no time to wait for Brackenfur to send Mosspaw away so that they could speak in private. The medicine cat finished tying up the dock and moved on to what looked like comfry. "What did he say?"

"Fire is coming," Tinystar recited.

Brackenfur paused. "This, then, is your test," he decided quietly.

Tinystar nodded, swallowing. "Ready or not… I'll have to face it."

* * *

Below Tinystar's paws, Fourtrees sat quiet and empty. The four leafless oaks rocked gently in the cold dawn, the very topmost of their branches rattling. Birdsong sprang up from the forest here and there – muted, tired chirps of creatures oblivious to what was going to happen at the heart of their lands.

Tinystar looked up at the sky. The sun was not yet visible on the horizon – just the orange-red streaks of light heralding its coming. It lit the night world up in flames, and Tinystar tried to ignore how it made him think of the prophecy.

"What are we waiting for?" hissed Cloudtail.

"I'm erring on the side of caution, Cloudtail," Tinystar replied, looking back at her and his Clanmates. He had left Whitestorm and Oakheart and brought with him nearly every warrior and apprentice ThunderClan could spare. "I don't want to go down yet in case there's a trap."

Cloudtail shrugged. "Wouldn't put it past those LionClan flea-bags," she huffed.

Beside her, Fernpaw huddled closer to Ashpaw. Her eyes were sharp with determination, but Tinystar knew that she had a gentler heart than her brother, whose claws were already unsheathed as if LionClan cats were under them.

Close to the two, but not too close, stood Mistypaw with Snowpaw. Tinystar had insisted on the deaf apprentice being included in the battle, knowing that Mistypaw and the other apprentices would be supporting one another. Mistypaw's fur was fluffed up against the morning chill, her expression unreadable. Snowpaw's claws were unsheathed, his eyes darting around as if LionClan cats were everywhere.

Nearby, Dustpelt and Cinderpelt stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Tinystar couldn't help but be warmed by how the two wouldn't leave one another's side. Frostfur was near them, her eyes burning – she had insisted on coming, declaring that she would be fighting for all ThunderClan queens… and she looked it.

Mousefur and Longtail, warriors who had heavily doubted Tinystar's ability to lead, showed no sign of any doubt now – both looking ahead, their pelts lit to flame by the coming dawn. Longtail's pale eyes were intense, and Mousefur's short tail couldn't help but tremble despite the stocky she-cat's efforts to remain calm.

Beside them were the RiverClan cats – Tawnypelt, Silverstream, Featherpaw, and Stormpaw. They hadn't had enough time to fill out their frames, but their fur was smooth and sleek and their eyes were bright with alertness, not sickness. They were ready to fight this battle, even if it would be their last.

Finally Tinystar looked upon Graystripe, his best friend, Sandstorm, his love and mate, and Cloudtail, his niece. Cats who would never betray him, who would follow him to StarClan and back if they could. Seeing the faith and determination in their eyes threatened to overwhelm Tinystar.

How strange it was, Tinystar reflected, that each of these cats had at one point doubted him for his kittypet heritage. Now they followed him into battle without question, and Tinystar had no idea what he'd do without their support.

 _I have brought all of you to fight,_ Tinystar thought. _One way or another, Bluestar will not get her way._

Tinystar looked back out to the horizon – and then down at Fourtrees. Movement stirred on the opposite end of the clearing, and a long, thin cat padded into the light. Tallstar raised his long tail in greeting. Tinystar raised his in return, and both Clans streamed down the slopes and into the hollow.

ThunderClan and WindClan melded together seamlessly – even the RiverClan cats were welcomed. The greetings were quiet and hushed, and all eyes were darting around to the outskirts, wary of ambush. Tinystar and Tallstar met before the Great Rock.

"You brought all of them," Tinystar breathed, looking out at the WindClan crowd. Every cat there bore fresh wounds from the LionClan attack, most barely even healed over. The red and angry wounds didn't seem to bother the WindClan cats – they hopped from paw to paw, their claws gleaming as they flexed anxiously.

"None of us will surrender," Tallstar breathed. There was a great amount of pride in his tone, so much that Tinystar knew Tallstar hadn't managed to quash all of it. "We are ready to fight."

Tinystar blinked. Tallstar's eyes were intense as they focused on Tinystar, and Tinystar realized, his pelt growing hot, that Tallstar was deferring to _him_ to lead. In fact, as Tinystar looked out at the crowd, _all_ the cats there were looking at him.

Tinystar swallowed. Nervousness had no place here – he raised his tail. "TigerClan! Together!"

They obeyed – the cats fanned out into a semi circle two cats deep, WindClan cats bumping shoulders and flanks with ThunderClanners. The apprentices were closer to the center, the older cats at the head of the pack, standing beside Tallstar and Tinystar. Tinystar was in awe of the instinctive coordination – as if some force had told each cat where to go, or how best to defend the heart of their lands.

Fur rose as LionClan scent cloyed the air. The circle bowed inward as LionClan cats stalked into the clearing from the RiverClan side, Bluestar, Leopardstar, and Russetfur at their head. The mass of cats were bristling with teeth and claws and eyes full of hate.

 _They just barely outnumber us,_ Tinystar thought, trying to count them all. _We can handle this if we play it smart and don't get overwhelmed._ He shared a glance with Tallstar, who seemed to be on the same train of thought.

A strip of grass lay untouched between LionClan and TigerClan. Bluestar took the first steps into the unspoken neutral zone, her tail up high. Leopardstar followed, and then Russetfur after. It was clear by how they positioned themselves that LionClan was Bluestar's, and Bluestar's alone – Leopardstar and Russetfur were always a pace behind the cool-headed blue-gray she-cat.

Tallstar and Tinystar approached as well, Tinystar making an effort to walk side-by-side, as equals. Some warriors attempted to come with them – but Tinystar signaled with his tail for them to hold their line. The two leaders stopped a stride away from the LionClan leaders.

"Here we are." Bluestar meowed into the silence. "There is no need for further formality – will you join LionClan and accept our prosperity, or refuse and face the consequences?"

"No," Tallstar stated.

"Never," hissed Tinystar.

Bluestar curled her lip. The warriors behind her shifted, their eyes narrowing to slits. "I urge you to reconsider," she said, her voice smooth. Her eyes were like blue flames. "Within LionClan there can be nothing but peace and prosperity. Without there will be nothing but strife and death."

Tinystar stepped forward until his whiskers touched Bluestar's. The blue-gray she-cat bristled, as if she were offended Tinystar would come so close to her. Tinystar bared his teeth.

"I will never serve you," he spat, "nor would a single one of the cats behind me."

Tinystar could feel Bluestar's breathing quicken. "You will regret that decision, Tinystar," she meowed, quietly. "Until the last breath you take."

"Try me," Tinystar seethed.

Bluestar raised her tail. Tinystar stepped back beside Tallstar, raising his tail as well. Warriors of both TigerClan and LionClan began to move forward, closing the small gap between them with careful pawsteps. Warriors locked eyes. Pelts bristled. Tails lashed. Tension thickened the air as the sun began to rise.

"Stonepaw!"

Mistypaw surged forward, pushing between Dustpelt and Tornear. Her blue eyes were huge. Across the clearing Tinystar spotted Stonepaw, half-hidden by Russetfur. The stocky gray tom had flinched at his sister's voice, his eyes wide.

Before Tinystar could order her back, Mistypaw was at his side. "You _did_ kidnap him!" she hissed to Bluestar. "You _monster!"_

Bluestar's ear twitched. "Stonepaw did not come to LionClan unwillingly, Mistypaw," she meowed, her voice cool. "He _wanted_ to be with us, where he could live happy and unjudged. You and your sister can join us, too. There is always a place for you here."

" _Never!"_

Tinystar was surprised at the amount of venom in the young cat's voice. Mistypaw had puffed herself up, her tail like a furious storm cloud and her eyes like lightning.

"G-Go? To _you?"_ she snarled. "You were _never_ a mother to us! You _never_ cared about us! _Oakheart_ raised us, and Tinystar too!" Mistypaw puffed out her chest. "I will grow to be everything you could have been – a loyal, true ThunderClan warrior, with StarClan in my heart and the warrior code in my bones!"

By the end of her speech, Mistypaw had been screaming. Tinystar could feel just how much the young cat was shaking. He was stunned by the strength of her conviction – her eyes blazed with fire like Bluestar's, yes, but it was clear that Mistypaw would outlast her mother, and was determined to burn in a brighter direction.

Bluestar's entire body rippled with rage. "Fine!" she spat, her voice hoarse. Stonepaw flinched in the crowd at the sound of his mother's hate-filled voice. " _Die_ , then, with the rest of this worthless, filthy lot!"

Russetfur let out a yowl. All of TigerClan tensed, ready for the wave of battle to wash over them – but none of the LionClan warriors moved. Bluestar stood, her shoulders bristling and her eyes blazing with cold, cold hatred. A murmur of anxiety spread through the TigerClan cats – what was happening?

"You will all die," seethed Bluestar. She raised her head, her fur smoothing. "You will die, and then the forest will be cleansed and reborn anew beneath my paws. It was always my destiny to be the Lion - the fire that would return the forest Clans to greatness."

Suddenly more cats began to flood into the clearing. TigerClan shifted again as they streamed in from the forest side, from the direction of the Thunderpath. Tinystar's heart beat in his ears – now there was no doubt, he thought as the new, strange-smelling cats pressed themselves against LionClan: TigerClan was vastly outnumbered.

"Who are they?" whispered Graystripe, stunned.

Tinystar had no answer. The cats bore an unfamiliar scent, like the reek of the Thunderpath but something much worse – and more than that, their eyes were cold and pitiless despite their skinny, haggard appearances. Their claws flashed wickedly, some long and almost unnaturally twisted.

A cat made their way to the head of the pack. Tinystar could not take his eyes off of them, not even as Bluestar went on about her great destiny. He simply couldn't hear her. His eyes were fixed on the sleek ginger tabby tom that had emerged from the throng of cats, on the nick in his ear and the jagged scar down his shoulder.

" _You be careful if you're thinking of going into the woods, Shoe."_ The ginger tom's voice rose in Tinystar's mind on a tidal wave of memories. The lump in Tinystar's throat threatened to choke him. _"I'd hate to see you get hurt."_

The leader of these horrible cats… was Rusty.


	25. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

" _Kittypets!" scoffed Ashpaw. "Why would Bluestar_ ally with _kittypets?"_

"Hush," hissed his mentor, Dustpelt. The brown tabby's shoulders were bristling. "We don't know the measure of this enemy yet – they may stink like Twolegplace, but they're _not_ kittypets."

Other murmurs of shock and confusion were rippling through the TigerClan ranks. Tinystar was nearly deaf to it all, his attention focused solely on the flame-colored tom standing beside Bluestar – a cat that Tinystar had thought he might never see again.

 _Rusty._

 _What is Rusty doing here?!_

Rusty simply stared back at Tinystar, his green eyes even. There was almost nothing familiar about that gaze, and yet Tinystar knew for certain that the cat standing before him was his half-brother.

"See something familiar, Tinystar?" crowed Bluestar. Her voice brought Tinystar out of his stupor. The blue-gray she-cat twined her tail, her blue eyes filled with triumph. "You and my friend here seem… acquainted."

Alarm rushed through TigerClan. Tinystar felt all eyes on him as the confused murmuring grew into a cloud that clogged Tinystar's ears. He lowered his tail to keep others from seeing it tremble.

"Tinystar," Tallstar murmured beside him, "who is this cat? Is this true?"

Tinystar took a deep breath. _There's nothing for it now,_ he thought grimly. _I have to tell them._ "This cat… is my half-brother," he breathed. "Rusty."

A murmur of shock rippled through the cats behind him. Tallstar's large ears pricked, his eyes wide. Tinystar avoided the faces of his Clanmates, scared of what he might find there.

Tinystar faced Rusty. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "What is all this, Rusty?"

"I am no longer Rusty," the ginger tom replied. "In Twolegplace, with these cats, I am known as Scorch. Did you think life in Twolegplace would halt without you, Tinystar? Did you think time would not march onward?"

Tinystar stiffened at the tone of his half-brother's voice. It was so… _alien._ The brotherly familiarity they had shared during Tinystar's youth was gone. The mischievous twinkle in Rusty-no, Scorch's eye wasn't there anymore. It was the same cat, Tinystar knew, but it was almost like some other cat was wearing his pelt.

"This can't be!" hissed Cloudtail. The patched she-cat pushed her way up to the front of the crowd. _"You're_ Rusty? You're… my father?"

More worried murmurs started up in the TigerClan ranks. Tinystar's heart beat in his ears. Cloudtail looked hurt and confused, her blue eyes wavering. Tinystar realized that she had never met her father before now – was that better, or worse than the alternative?

Scorch looked her up and down, his eyes flashing. "You must be Cloudtail, then," he assumed. "Yes - I am your father."

Cloudtail's ears flattened. Her expression made it clear – that was not the news she had wanted to hear. Tinystar, unfortunately, knew there was no time for his niece's troubled heart.

"You never answered me," Tinystar declared. He tried to squash down his discomfort. "Why are you here?"

It was Bluestar that answered: "Scorch and his cats, BloodClan, are here to help convince you to join us," she purred. Her eyes sparkled with a delight that made Tinystar's stomach want to heave. Bluestar twitched her whiskers. "Otherwise… you will face us both in battle. Did you really think I had not come up with a plan to keep this in my favor, Tinystar?"

Tinystar sank his claws into the earth, frustration sparking under his pelt. Would Scorch really fight him? Tinystar didn't have to think hard about the answer – the look in Scorch's eye, his stance… this was not the brother Tinystar had grown up knowing. But maybe there was something of Rusty still in there?

"Very well," Tinystar decided. He took a step forward, into the gully of space between the two Clans. "Then perhaps Scorch and his Clan ought to know who they're really fighting for?"

"They know," Bluestar affirmed, her shoulder fur rising just slightly. "There's no need for your posturing, Tinystar – we demand an answer, not more delays!"

Tinystar lashed his tail. "This has waited long enough, Bluestar," he spat. " _None_ of your cats know who they're really following – but now they will. Are you afraid of your destiny?"

"I fear nothing!" Bluestar hissed. "Least of all destiny."

Tinystar sat on his haunches, in the middle of the crowd of cats – a denser crowd than at any Gathering. It felt like the clearing was full of cats, surrounding him and cutting off every escape – and yet, despite the crowding, Tinystar felt calm. His fear of shrinking spaces and inescapable crowds had fled him, it seemed, for this moment.

He took a deep breath.

"You all know Bluestar now," he began. "And all of you know she was once a ThunderClan warrior, and my mentor. A promising warrior of skill and strength, and with unparalleled ambition – she sought the rank of deputy… and murdered Redtail to get it."

Silence greeted his proclamation.

Tinystar went on regardless: "She slew him at the battle for Sunningrocks, and claimed the credit of Swiftclaw, RiverClan's deputy then, death for herself! But Bluestar was not made deputy that night – Lionheart was.

"She got her wish when Lionheart happened to die during a ShadowClan raid. Every day following that promotion she plotted and schemed a way to kill Tigerstar, our Clan's leader. She attempted to murder Tigerstar many times – laying traps that other cats, like Brackenfur, our medicine cat, were caught in instead.

"When I would not join in her schemes, she and her crony Darkstripe made attempts at my life as well," Tinystar continued. "All of which failed."

Tinystar looked out at the LionClan cats, and at the cats of BloodClan. He hoped his speech was going to do _something_ here. He swept on: "Finally she laid plans with Brokentail, ShadowClan's former leader and a great force of evil in the forest. Together, she and Brokentail's allies would attack ThunderClan and, in the confusion… kill Tigerstar.

"But Bluestar failed." He paused to take a breath, feeling Bluestar's gaze burning into his body. How much it must hurt to hear of her past failures! "She was exiled, and she swore to kill all of ThunderClan.

"As a rogue she ambushed a ThunderClan patrol, killing Runningwind and one of our apprentices, Thornpaw," Tinystar recounted. Mousefur growled behind him. "She was partly responsible for Whitethroat of ShadowClan's death on the Thunderpath.

"She somehow became ShadowClan's leader during their time of famine and sickness. As ShadowClan's leader she and Darkstripe set loose a pack of dogs in the forest in an attempt to destroy ThunderClan. Those dogs ravaged and injured two of our warriors irreparably – Swiftfoot and Brightheart. Bluestar killed one of our queens, Brindleface, to give the pack a taste for cat blood."

Tinystar's throat ached. "Tigerstar gave his final life to destroy the dogs in the gorge – to save my life and the life of every ThunderClan cat. To save ThunderClan from the _menace_ that is Bluestar."

Silence hung over the clearing. Tinystar had been speaking so emphatically that he hadn't realized he was trembling – as if every cat that Bluestar had ever killed or hurt had been right beside him, spurring him on. The scent of Redtail crossed his nose, he thought.

It was obvious that no cat but the ThunderClan warriors had known any of this. All of LionClan's eyes were wide, their fur bristling. Leopardstar was looking at Bluestar as if she had never laid eyes on the cat before, horror and rage patterning her face. Tallstar, beside Tinystar, had his head bowed, his shoulders trembling as if the weight of Bluestar's evil was pressing down on him.

Tinystar, however, felt light – lighter than he ever had in seasons. The burden of the truth had melted off of his shoulders once and for all. Now every cat in the forest knew the truth about Bluestar. Now all the horrors were out in the open.

But none of that mattered if his speech had no effect on BloodClan. The rogues' expression were unreadable, and Scorch was even more a mystery. Tinystar's tail twitched. What was his half-brother thinking now?

"I knew of the dogs," Scorch admitted finally, breaking the silence with a soft, quiet voice. "I was _not_ told that the plan had failed so miserably."

Bluestar stiffened, her face thunder. "Your cats still obey me, Scorch! We have an agreement!"

Scorch frowned. "Obviously that agreement must be revisited," he decided plainly. "It was made under the assumption that you weren't a complete moron."

Bluestar bristled to the ends of her fur. Her eyes were wilder than Tinystar had ever seen. Her claws unsheathed as she raged: "Your cats are _mine_ , Scorch! BloodClan, attack!"

Tinystar stiffened his body, bracing for a wave of cats to pour over him – but none came. Not one BloodClan cat had even so much as twitched at Bluestar's behest. In fact… they all looked rather bored. Disinterested. Staring at their paws or licking down their fur.

Scorch, however, was fire personified. His eyes were an inferno. His pelt shone in the sunlight like a raging storm of flame. "BloodClan _must_ do nothing, Bluestar!" he seethed. "We are not yours to command! BloodClan answers to no cat but _me!"_

There was something primal and protective about Scorch's voice. Something that made Tinystar step back. The passion and intensity… _This is really Scorch's Clan,_ Tinystar thought. _How hard did he fight to earn BloodClan's respect and leadership? As hard as me? Harder?_

" _Traitor!"_ screamed Bluestar.

She swiped at him, claws bared. Scorch dodged, getting to his paws. His own claws glinted in the dawn light.

"This battle is a long time coming, Bluestar," he sneered. "I will have my revenge!"

Bluestar launched herself at Scorch like a fox, foaming and slavering to get her teeth into his throat. Scorch kept his cool, dodging her blows and raining down attacks of his own. Tinystar swallowed – he had never seen Bluestar so unhinged. He'd never seen her fight so madly, so emotionally.

The two tussled together on the ground in a ginger-and-blue heap, blood spraying in all directions. The forest cats edged away from the battle, fear rippling through them at being caught in the middle. The BloodClan cats watched on, motionless - their eyes cold, unfeeling, and distant.

Scorch tore a hunk of fur from Bluestar's shoulders. Bluestar snapped her teeth against his ear. Scorch's claws tore into her side. Bluestar's claws hooked into his flanks. They fought in a frenzy of teeth and fur and claws, so unlike how Tinystar knew any warrior would fight.

Bluestar used her hind legs to kick Scorch away. She pulled herself to her paws, shoulders hunched. "You're just filthy, mangy kittypets!" she spat. "I don't need you! I never needed you! I never needed _any_ cat!"

She reared up onto her haunches, preparing to leap onto Scorch. The ginger tom was crouched, bleeding from his flanks and his ear, his eyes narrowed.

"I am Bluestar!" she roared, leaping. "I am _fire!_ I am _destiny!_ I am -"

Tinystar watched on in horror. Bluestar's leap was accurate – but Scorch's leap went lower on purpose. Scorch's claws – reinforced with wicked, sharpened dog's teeth – tore into Bluestar's belly, slicing through like sunlight through tree branches.

Blood bubbled from Bluestar's lips. She fell from the air into a heap on her side, blood pouring from her wound. She lay in a convulsing pile, her limbs jerking and twitching violently. Scorch landed on his paws just steps away from her body, watching with cold green eyes.

Tinystar felt acid in his throat. Tallstar let out a horrified whine. Leopardstar watched on, her amber eyes wide but masked. Some cat retched. Every cat held their breath – waiting for the twitching to stop, for Bluestar to get up and fight again, renewed by her bond with StarClan.

The twitching ceased… and then renewed.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Tinystar was struck by horror. _She's dying nine times!_

Bluestar's body convulsed and lay still, convulsed and lay still… Tinystar could count each life as it passed. _Five… Four… Three…_

 _Two…_

 _One…_

And then she lay still.

The entire clearing was silent, each Clan cat waiting for Bluestar to maybe, possibly, get up again. But any cat that had been keeping count knew – there were no more lives for Bluestar to live.

She was dead.

Gone.

The thought was supposed to relieve Tinystar – after seasons of torment, Bluestar was finally dead. The evil in the forest had been defeated soundly. And yet, even as her blood soaked into the forest floor…

All of LionClan seemed to realize as one that Bluestar was truly dead. With shrieks of terror and horror and fear, they fled into the trees from whence they came, scattering into the forest.

Mistypaw surged forward, aiming to chase down Stonepaw before he disappeared into the undergrowth with Russetfur. Tinystar felt life return to his limbs as he wrapped his forepaws around her neck, pulling her back towards the line. _"Hold!"_ he screeched, finding his voice. "Hold, TigerClan!"

They held.

Scorch watched the commotion, flicking his torn ear at the fleeing cats. "Cowards," he decided, straightening his back. He flicked Bluestar's blood off of his paws dismissively, returning to his Clanmates, who hadn't moved a whiskerlength throughout the entire display.

 _Is this cat really my brother?_ Tinystar thought, horror bubbling in his body. How could any cat – even an enemy of Bluestar's – watch that happen and seemingly feel nothing? _She had been my greatest enemy, but she didn't deserve to die like that!_

"Scorch -" He managed.

Scorch's eyes rested on him. "Enough," he interrupted. Scorch straightened his shoulders and peered into the TigerClan forces. "Bluestar was a fool to think that she owned us – but forest politics are something I don't care a whisker for."

"You may hunt as you go," Tallstar rasped. The black and white tom was fighting to stop himself from shaking. "Please. Just leave us in peace."

Scorch's eyes narrowed. "I _will_ have what was promised to me," he declared, baring his teeth. "Your Clans have three days to leave the forest for good. At dawn, this land belongs to BloodClan."

He did not wait for a response – he turned and left, his tail straight up. BloodClan flowed after him like a river, until TigerClan was alone in the clearing, blood lapping at their paws.


	26. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

 _Tinystar stared at the waving undergrowth,_ his heart beating in his ears. Would Scorch and BloodClan come back? Would LionClan? But Fourtrees was silent, birdsong starting up somewhere in the forest. Life was going back to normal after holding its breath for the dawn – but Tinystar still felt like he was rooted in time.

Hurt pierced his chest like enemy claws. How could Rusty, his own half-brother, become a greater threat to the forest than Bluestar? He found himself questioning every aspect of their old friendship, wondering whether the signs had been there all along.

" _Did you think life in Twolegplace would halt without you, Tinystar?"_ Scorch's words seared into his mind. _"Did you think time would not march onward?"_

Even so, Tinystar had no idea how this had come to be. How had Rusty, so charming and good-natured, become Scorch? What was BloodClan, and why did they even care about taking the forest for their own, now that Bluestar was dead?

Tinystar swallowed, his eyes resting on Bluestar's blood-soaked body. Bluestar was dead now. His ears were buzzing with anxiety – was any of what had happened even real?

But the blood on his paws felt real enough. The flies hovering over Bluestar's body were real. A soft breeze stirred her fur almost apologetically. That was real, too. Bluestar's glazed eyes, once cold and filled with hate, had frozen themselves in fear at her very last, agonizing moments. If Tinystar looked into them he could hear her wheezing breaths as she clung to her final lives.

Strangely, guilt washed over him at the sight of her. She had been a good warrior in her time, before ambition had consumed her. She hadn't deserved to die like this.

Tinystar dug his claws into the soil. _I thought it was my destiny to stop you,_ he thought, staring into her fear-filled eyes. _How could it not be my destiny?_ He couldn't help but feel the slightest bit cheated at the thought. Had StarClan really intended for Bluestar's life to end by Scorch's claws and not Tinystar's? If so, what had been the point to all their fighting to begin with?

He took a deep breath. Would she offer her strength to stop BloodClan? Was she with StarClan, or someplace far darker, where no star dared shine? Tinystar had no idea. After all Bluestar had done, somehow he couldn't see any StarClan cat forgiving her, especially after giving her the chance to make things right with ShadowClan as their leader.

"Tinystar," Sandstorm's voice was quiet. "Are you all right?" She nudged him with her shoulder, and Tinystar jumped at the touch. He looked back at the gathered TigerClan, realizing that, despite the chaos, the battle lines had remained properly drawn. He looked into his mate's green eyes, trying in vain to draw strength from them.

Sandstorm's whiskers twitched against his when Tinystar didn't reply. "Is that Scorch really your brother?" she asked.

Tinystar swallowed. He forced himself to find his voice. "I'm not all right," he admitted quietly. "How can I be, after that?" He sighed heavily. "Scorch is my brother, yes – but… it's almost like some other cat is wearing his pelt."

Sandstorm touched her nose to his shoulder, her eyes full of sympathy.

Tinystar turned to Tallstar, becoming more and more aware that these cats were looking for guidance now, more than ever. The WindClan leader was stiff, his eyes huge in his narrow, tapered head. His large ears were quivering.

"Tallstar," Tinystar meowed.

"All nine of her lives," Tallstar rasped, "gone. Just like that."

"I didn't think it was possible," Tinystar admitted.

"Nor did I," Tallstar agreed. "Never in any history that I know has it happened."

The black and white tom turned his long face towards Tinystar, ripping his eyes away from Bluestar's corpse. Now those eyes gazed into Tinystar's searchingly. "Scorch… is your brother? How?" he asked.

Tinystar's shoulders stiffened. There was a strange intensity to Tallstar's gaze. "W-We shared the same father," Tinystar answered. "A kittypet named Jake."

Tallstar's entire body shivered, from ears to tail. Tinystar thought the skinny tom would fall over from the force of his reaction. Tallstar dug his claws into the earth. "How could the son of my old love be so evil? Such a disrespect to his memory?"

"Your… love?" Tinystar tipped his head, confused. "You knew Jake?"

Tallstar nodded. "We shared a personal journey, long ago – seasons before you were born. We were young…" He paused, memories flitting behind his eyes. "Our love… wasn't to be, in the end. We had to part."

Tallstar's yellow eyes grew more intense as they looked on Tinystar. "I promised that I would watch over any kit of his. I knew there was something familiar about you, Tinystar…"

Tinystar swallowed his shock. Tallstar and his father? How could that be? But it seemed to be that Tallstar was speaking true. "I suppose just about anything is possible now," he admitted.

Tallstar's tail lashed. "Do you think Scorch was serious? About taking the forest for his own?"

Tinystar frowned. "He seemed to be," he answered grimly. "We need to prepare for the battle of our lives."

"Agreed," Tallstar said firmly. The old cat's resolve seemed set. "WindClan was driven from their home once in recent memory – we shall not be again! We will fight until our last breaths."

"So will ThunderClan," Tinystar agreed.

Tallstar stood, raising his tail. "Then we shall meet here in three days, at dawn," he declared. "Good luck, son of Jake."

All of WindClan broke from the battle line. They followed Tallstar up the slope in a smooth, silent motion, disappearing over the rise and into the heather. Tinystar swallowed. He felt far more alone and vulnerable in Fourtrees without their numbers. What if BloodClan or LionClan came back for an ambush?

Sandstorm shifted beside him. "Will it ever end?" she wondered softly.

"I don't know," Tinystar replied, his voice breaking. "It's just one thing after another."

Sandstorm touched her nose to his ear, murmuring a comforting sound before she headed for Cloudtail, who was looking quite distraught. The two she-cats curled together, talking quietly. Tinystar thought he saw Cloudtail's shoulders shaking with emotion.

 _It's hard on her, too,_ Tinystar understood. _She'd never known her father, only from stories from me or Fiona. And now he's… a monster._

"We should get moving," Tinystar announced.

All of ThunderClan's heads perked up. It was clear that they had all been wallowing in their own kind of grief about the situation. Cinderpelt and Dustpelt were closer together than ever before. Ashpaw and Fernpaw had their tails twined. Mousefur's claws had torn up a patch of grass at her paws while Longtail's tail hadn't stopped twisting for some time, it seemed. Each ThunderClan cat was agitated in their own way.

Tinystar scanned the crowd, to ensure that all his cats were accounted for. They were all present – all but Mistypaw. Tinystar's heart started – where was his apprentice? Had she fled? – but he spotted her blue-gray shape beside her mother's body.

Heart aching for her, Tinystar approached. Mistypaw was crouched in her mother's blood, her nose buried in Bluestar's fur. Tinystar bent his head and touched his muzzle to her ear.

"It's the first time I've seen her," Mistypaw hiccupped, "I think. And she's… she's _gone…"_

"I know," Tinystar breathed.

"She did such awful things…" Mistypaw went on. "She hurt so many cats! But… she was still my mother. Even if I didn't know her, I feel like… like I'm dying, too."

Tinystar said nothing. He wrapped his tail around Mistypaw's flanks, trying not to look at the torn body of his old enemy. Mistypaw was shivering beside him, trembling like a leaf.

"M-Maybe Stonepaw will come back, now that she's gone?" Mistypaw stammered. She looked up at Tinystar, her muzzle smeared with her mother's blood. "He's seen it all, now. He knows she was truly evil!"

"If Stonepaw wants to come back, he can," Tinystar promised.

Mistypaw choked out a sob. "I hope he comes home…"

Tinystar licked her between the ears. Truthfully, Tinystar still had no idea just how much persuading Darkstripe really had done to get Stonepaw to leave. _If he had always felt out of place in ThunderClan, that feeling might be something that will never go away._ Tinystar thought. _What if he really does want to stay in a different Clan, even after this?_

"T-Tinystar?"

"Yes, Mistypaw?" Tinystar looked down at his apprentice.

"Can… Can we bury her?"

Tinystar hesitated. Bury his enemy? His greatest foe? Part of him wanted to leave her for carrion, for all she'd done; but Mistypaw was looking down at her mother's body with sorrow in her eyes, and Tinystar realized that he couldn't bring himself to do it, no matter how much hatred he had for Bluestar.

"Of course," Tinystar agreed. "We'll bury her."

* * *

"Let all cats of ThunderClan gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

It was an unusual summons, reflected on Willowpelt's face as she took a moment to realize that Tinystar actually meant _all_ of ThunderClan. She ushered her kits out of the nursery, all three unaware of the tension in the clearing – just excited to be included.

Sunhigh light shone weakly down on the Clan. Every cat by now – excluding the kits – knew what had happened at Fourtrees now. Every cat knew the danger they were in. Worry for their lives filled every eye Tinystar met down below, and his heart twisted.

 _Can I bring them through this disaster?_

He shook his head of the thought. He _had_ to believe wholeheartedly that BloodClan could be defeated, for their sake. But it was all too easy to see blood pouring from each cat below – to see the clearing littered with their dead bodies. It left a lump in his throat.

 _What does StarClan think of this?_ Tinystar wondered, looking up at the pale sky. Their warrior ancestors had said nothing throughout the meeting, not as Bluestar died nine times nor as Scorch laid claim to the forest. Was there even anything they could do?

Tinystar cleared his throat, looking back down at his expectant Clanmates. "I'm sure you've all heard by now what happened at Fourtrees," he announced. "But just to be clear – Bluestar is dead, and this BloodClan from Twolegplace has laid claim to the forest. We have three days to prepare to leave or to fight for our home."

"Flee?" hissed Graystripe. "How could we? We've lived here for generations!"

One-eye bristled in the back. "This has always been _our_ land!"

"We can fight them off," insisted Dustpelt. "They're just kittypets!"

"Yeah," scoffed Ashpaw, "but they _killed_ Bluestar!"

Nervous silence followed the apprentice's point. Down below, Tinystar spotted Oakheart huddled with his daughters, his face filled with sorrow. He might have hated Bluestar in the end, but he had truly loved her, once. Her loss hit him hard, no matter how he might deny it.

"I know," Tinystar meowed. "And I agree – we must fight."

"What of RiverClan and ShadowClan?" Whitestorm wondered. "Will they fight, too? And on whose side?"

An uncomfortable murmur rippled through the crowd. BloodClan was many. ThunderClan and WindClan would barely stand a chance against those numbers. Would LionClan rejoin their former allies?

"I don't know," Tinystar admitted. "I don't know where they stand, or if they even exist anymore. I don't think any cat but Bluestar really knew about BloodClan's involvement until the end."

"Leopardstar would be too proud to break up LionClan," Tawnypelt pointed out from her place near the center of the crowd. She stood with Featherpaw and Stormpaw in her shadow. "I could sneak into RiverClan territory to check."

Tinystar flicked his tail. "I appreciate the offer, but it's unwise," he countered. "There's no way of knowing what might happen to you if you were caught. LionClan will be addressed, but I'm afraid there are more pressing matters right now."

He raised his chin, looking at the whole of his Clan. "For now, the most we can do is increase our patrols near the RiverClan border. Any information will be key."

"Agreed," Whitestorm rumbled.

"Beyond that – every cat must be ready to fight," Tinystar announced.

"Even us?" Sorrelkit wondered from her place beside her mother. "Is that why you called every cat for the meeting?"

Tinystar nodded, his heart aching at the thought. But BloodClan was fierce and seemed ruthless – who knew what sort of code they operated on? Who knew if they would leave innocent kits alone in their bid to rule the forest? "Even the kits."

Sorrelkit screeched with delight. She, Sootkit, and Rainkit bounced around Willowpelt, oblivious to the total threat. Willowpelt, meanwhile, looked up at Tinystar, her eyes impossibly large at the thought of her babies fighting.

 _This is nothing like what Brokentail did,_ Tinystar thought grimly. _He trained kits as apprentices on purpose. I'm doing it for their own safety._

"You kits won't be in the main battle, of course," he pointed out. "But we'll need every warrior and apprentice we have to fight. The camp will be barely defended. Every claw left behind might be necessary."

Tinystar caught Sandstorm's eye in the crowd. "You will train the kits, Sandstorm," he ordered.

Sandstorm's eyes lit up with surprise. "Of course," she purred back. "By the time I'm through with them they'll be the most feared kits in the forest."

"Tinystar!" called Cloudtail. Tinystar looked at his niece – he hadn't yet had the chance to speak with her about Scorch, and how she was feeling. Right now, however, beside Brightheart and Swiftfoot, she looked steady enough. "Brightheart and Swiftfoot have to be with us. They can fight as well as any warrior now."

"I wouldn't dream of leaving them behind," Tinystar admitted. "We'll need every claw."

"So what of ours?" asked Speckletail. She stood with the elders surrounding her. "Will we be able to fight?"

Tinystar frowned. "I want you all to sharpen your skills – but you won't be in the battle itself. The camp will still need defending. I'm sorry to pull you away from your well-earned rests, but…"

"That's all right," Dappletail purred. "We could use the exercise."

"We're always ready to fight for our Clan," Speckletail stated firmly. "Being old doesn't make us useless."

Tinystar nodded, grateful to have the backing of the proud, stubborn queen. He raised his voice again: "All warriors and apprentices need to sharpen their skills as well. Oakheart, I want you to create a training program that will work with Whitestorm's patrols. Graystripe, you help."

Oakheart looked up at Tinystar. He was filled with grief, but he was still a great warrior who knew when to put it aside. The tabby tom nodded. "Of course, Tinystar," he meowed. "We'll get these warriors fighting like the ancient cats in no time."

"Brackenfur, what about you?" Tinystar asked, looking down into the shadow of the Highrock. Brackenfur sat there, his injured leg sticking out awkwardly. "What do you need?"

"I'll be collecting as many herbs as possible," Brackenfur admitted. "I'll be able to keep most of my bundles for today but even many of those leaves are stale. I'll need another pair of eyes to help scour the territory with me and Mosspaw. Not all the time, but whenever they're free."

Tinystar scanned the line of apprentices. "You can have Fernpaw," he decided. Fernpaw was smart and kind – she would take easily to the work. Plus, she was an older apprentice – there weren't as many new moves to teach her.

Tinystar went over everything in his head. For now, that seemed to be it. He raised his voice: "ThunderClan! We will survive BloodClan, together! We're stronger than these rogues from Twolegplace and their mockery of a Clan!"

"ThunderClan!" cheered the cats, their spirits lifting. _"ThunderClan!"_

"Rest," Tinystar told them. "And begin preparations at once."


	27. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

" _Tinystar?"_

Tinystar had no trouble waking up to the soft voice whispered just outside his den. His sleep had been plagued with violent dreams, images of his Clanmates falling one by one in BloodClan's path. Tinystar resisted as best as he could, but in the end even Sandstorm was claimed – he softly touched his nose to her sleeping form, grateful that dreams were sometimes simply dreams.

The shadow at the entrance of his den made him slowly and carefully get to his paws. He picked his way out of the nest and headed for the entrance, thinking sullenly about how much night was truly left – it was only moonhigh. Would he ever sleep now that he knew BloodClan was waiting for the Clans?

Brightheart and Swiftfoot met him at the entrance. Both young cats looked ruffled, their fur fluffed up against the early leaf-bare night air. Tinystar saw fear sparking in their eyes, and could smell it clouding Brightheart's scent.

"What is it?" Tinystar asked quietly, peering past the two to try and spot any source of distress in the clearing. Everything seemed quiet.

"Cloudtail snuck out of camp," Swiftfoot growled.

Tinystar stiffened. "What?!"

Brightheart swallowed. Swiftfoot went on, "It was just as the moon rose – after everyone went to sleep. She's not come back yet."

"We thought she might be hunting," Brightheart added swiftly, her tail brushing the grass. "She does that, sometimes. All cats do. But…"

"She hasn't come back yet," Tinystar finished. _And with BloodClan and possibly LionClan prowling out there… she's more vulnerable than ever._ Had the Clan felt so hunted before, even with the dogs? _No, that was a different feeling. Dogs don't reason like we cats do._

But Cloudtail always came back – no matter what, she always seemed to have the faith of her denmates, even when she was breaking the warrior code as an apprentice. Cloudtail had a way of inspiring loyalty despite her personal flaws.

"We think she might have gone to find Scorch," Swiftfoot meowed in the silence. His shoulders were stiff. "She's been bothered by him ever since dawn."

"I don't blame her," Tinystar decided. It was still unbelievable that Scorch was really Rusty. How could they be the same cat? _Cloudtail must be in a crisis,_ he thought. _Poor mite._

"If she goes to BloodClan, they might kill her!" Brightheart breathed, her eye wide. "We have to find her!"

"I know," Tinystar agreed. He waved his tail at the two fretting cats. "But with BloodClan about, one cat might be more discreet than three. You two stay here until we return – tell Whitestorm what's happened but don't raise alarm. We don't need the whole Clan freaking out."

"You can't possibly think we'll let you go alone!" Swiftfoot hissed, his fur bristling.

Tinystar shook his head. "I can and I do," he meowed. "A Clan leader's order is law. I'll be back before dawn."

Swiftfoot did not look pleased – and neither did Brightheart. Both young cats pressed their pelts together, their tails twined as they worried for their mate. Tinystar pushed past them, his thoughts clouded with worries of his own as he headed for the camp entrance.

 _If she does find Scorch…_ he worried, _what will he do to his own daughter?_

* * *

Cloudtail's scent was hard to track on the well-worn ThunderClan paths, but Tinystar managed to catch a whiff of it heading for Fourtrees. He put himself on the trail, trying to ignore how loud his worries rang out in the cold silence of the night.

 _I have to bring her back, before she does something she'll regret,_ Tinystar thought firmly. _We have time – thank StarClan – but she can't provoke BloodClan or we might lose it!_

He pushed through the undergrowth and down into Fourtrees. The air still smelled like blood and cats, with the stink of Twolegplace. Fresher still, though, was Cloudtail's scent – she'd lingered here, probably trying to use that expert nose of hers to track the BloodClan cats.

Tinystar put Bluestar's grave out of his view. He and Mistypaw had buried her just outside of Fourtrees, and the earth would be freshly turned at least until newleaf. Tinystar didn't think he could bear to look on it now.

He opened his jaws to catch Cloudtail's scent. He followed it to the center of Fourtrees where, to his curiosity, he found it veering off towards the Thunderpath. Cloudtail's sharp nose must have found something Tinystar's couldn't.

Tinystar put his paws to the trail, following the scent as it made a somewhat straight path through the undergrowth to the Thunderpath. He ruffled his fur up against the cold as the trees began to thin and the air began to stink of Twoleg. Thankfully at this time of night, the Thunderpath was quiet.

The ground sloped down beneath Tinystar's paws, and he found himself on the path to the tunnel that ran beneath the Thunderpath. It was an easy route into ShadowClan territory, screened by overgrown bushes and reeds. The stream that ran through it was pitiful and ice-cold, so Tinystar avoided it.

He spotted Cloudtail crouched before the yawning tunnel entrance. The patched she-cat was unbothered by the Twoleg structure – in fact, she was lapping at the waters that trickled through it. Cloudtail raised her head, her whiskers twitching. She hadn't yet spotted or scented Tinystar.

Tinystar decided not to startle her, in case there were other cats about. He pushed through the undergrowth, making sure to rattle the branches. Cloudtail's ears pricked, and Tinystar saw her claws slide out – until she recognized Tinystar.

"What are you doing here?" Cloudtail demanded.

"You know why I'm here," Tinystar told her. He padded up to her side, feeling air coming through the tunnel. He didn't like the way it stirred his pelt from the blackness. He pressed his pelt against Cloudtail's. "You should feel lucky – Brightheart and Swiftfoot are amazing cats, to worry about you so."

Cloudtail's tail bristled, but not with anger. "I feel… like this is something I have to do," she meowed earnestly. "More than ever before. I've never known my father, Tinystar – I have to know… everything."

Tinystar swallowed. "I know," he admitted. "I feel it too." The only way he would get his answers was from Scorch himself. "So we will face him together."

Cloudtail's eyes widened. Tinystar swallowed, feeling his heart beating in his ears. He'd promised Swiftfoot and Brightheart that he'd just bring Cloudtail home – but now that they were here, and so close… it felt right to try and seek out the answers. For the both of them.

"BloodClan went through here," Cloudtail meowed, gesturing to the tunnel. "Into ShadowClan territory. They must have claimed it for now."

"Do you think we can find them?" Tinystar wondered. ShadowClan's territory was boggy and vast – he'd heard tales at Gatherings of even seasoned warriors getting lost in the wilds. Likely they were simply scare tactics – but even so, there was always a grain of truth in any story.

Cloudtail's nose wrinkled. "They stink – _way_ more than ShadowClan," she meowed. "I'll be able to find them anywhere, I think."

Tinystar peered through the tunnel. He couldn't see the terrain on the other side – just a speck of silver light where the moonlight reflected off the tiny trickle of water that ran through. Some part of him – the rational, reasonable part – wanted him to drag Cloudtail away, take back his promise, and head back to ThunderClan. But another part - perhaps the adventurous spirit that had gotten him into so much trouble as an apprentice – just _had_ to know; and Tinystar knew that not knowing would drag at his paws for the rest of his life.

"We'll need to be careful," he ordered. "At the first sign of trouble, we leave."

Cloudtail lashed her tail.

Tinystar felt for her, for her frustration. "We'll find Scorch," he meowed earnestly. "We'll figure this out, Cloudtail, for the both of us."


	28. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

 _Both Tinystar and Cloudtail slid out_ of the Thunderpath tunnel, moonhigh light streaming down on their pelts. Quickly, the two of them darted into the nearest patch of undergrowth that would hide them, conscious of how Cloudtail's white patches would glow in the night's darkness.

Tinystar hadn't been across the Thunderpath since he was an apprentice – out on a mission to recover stolen kits from Brokentail's cruel claws. Even then he didn't get much of a chance to realize the scope of ShadowClan's territory. It was vast, boggy, sparse… he bristled at the thought of trying to exist without the cover of thick bushes and undergrowth.

"This isn't what I thought I'd be doing when I first entered ShadowClan territory," Cloudtail admitted, her breath steaming as she looked out into the marsh. She took the first few cautious steps. "I thought it'd be for battle, with all of ThunderClan beside me."

Tinystar nodded in agreement, slinking out of the cover to follow her. Together they padded deeper into the bog. Tinystar was stunned by the silence – broken only by the occasional bubble of peat or the croak of a frog. The tall pines only rustled near their very tops.

"It's so eerie here," Tinystar commented. He sniffed at a patch of mushrooms, recalling how their pungent odor could hide their scent. He rubbed his muzzle along the soft caps, directing Cloudtail to do the same.

"I don't like it," grunted Cloudtail. She shook out her long furred face. "This place stinks."

Tinystar agreed – but with dread he realized that it only really stank of bog. The only ShadowClan scents that lingered here now were very faintly clinging to the borders and the hunting trails. ShadowClan had been part of LionClan for so long that they seemed to be fading from the forest.

"Last time I was here I was an apprentice," Tinystar mewed. "Have you heard that story?"

Cloudtail nodded. "Of course," she purred. "I've heard every story of how my uncle defied the warrior code he so fervently defends!"

Tinystar's whiskers twitched.

"It was one of my favorites, you know," Cloudtail went on. The two were walking shoulder to shoulder, each keeping their eyes peeled for any movement in the murk – but it was difficult to discern anything in the unfamiliar territory, and scents were so easily confused. "You marched right into ShadowClan territory to save those kits! I always wanted to do things like that – challenge the authority and save the Clan, you know?"

"I can't say all my adventures were wise," Tinystar admitted. "I didn't do much thinking in those days. My heart was in the right place, though – at least that's what I tell myself."

"Of course it was!" Cloudtail burst. Her eyes were shining. "You risked so much not just for ThunderClan, but for all the Clans! Mouse-brained though you were… you were my hero, Tinystar. You still are."

Tinystar's pelt flashed with pride. He was about to respond, but his open mouth caught an unfamiliar scent… and suddenly a cat was padding out of the mire before them.

Scorch.

"An amusing tale," Scorch meowed, his whiskers twitching. The ginger tom stopped a pace away from the ThunderClan cats. Tinystar felt Cloudtail tense up beside him as she stared at her father. Tinystar fought to keep his claws from unsheathing. "I had no idea you'd become such a hero, Tinystar – so bold and brave – but I suppose that's fitting for a Clan leader."

Tinystar turned his head, looking for more BloodClan cats – but Scorch's mew brought his eyes back to his brother: "My cats have been watching you since you set paw in our territory. They've stayed their claws only on my order."

Tinystar had to fight to keep himself from bristling in alarm. Beside him Cloudtail sank her claws into the peat. The confusing marsh scents had befuddled even her nose – and they were surrounded now, Tinystar could see it in the shadows rippling beneath the pines. Eyes flashed occasionally, narrowed into the slits. He thought he saw the gleam of claws.

"I can only guess why you're here," Scorch went on. "You want to speak to me."

Tinystar swallowed. "Yes," he admitted.

Scorch flicked his tail. "Then speak."

Tinystar stiffened his shoulders, glancing at Cloudtail. It seemed like her jaws were locked tight – as if she hadn't really expected to meet Scorch here so soon, or at all. Tinystar didn't blame her. ShadowClan territory was a maze.

"What happened to you?" Tinystar asked instead. He tried to keep the emotion from his voice but he failed. Longing for Rusty was in his words. "How did you become leader of BloodClan?"

Scorch frowned. "Many things happened," he admitted. "Suddenly I found myself leader of the biggest group of strays in Twolegplace – with all the pressures that entails. I have many cats to care for and keep safe, and I'm not afraid to do what I must to keep them alive."

"I understand," Tinystar admitted. Perhaps there was an opportunity in this dialogue? "I've only been leader of ThunderClan for a quarter moon, but it feels like a lifetime. There must be a way for us to coexist without driving the Clans away outright."

"Yes, there must!" Cloudtail agreed. She took a hesitant step forward. "How can you want us all gone? You have family here!"

Scorch narrowed his eyes, the fur along his spine lifting. "The Clans are an arrogant scourge on this forest!" he spat.

Tinystar and Cloudtail shuffled back, both shocked at the force behind Scorch's mew. Anger and hatred blazed in his eyes like green flame.

"You weren't the first cat to dream of a life of grandeur in the forest, Tinystar," Scorch went on. "I grew up on our father's stories, I wanted to join the Clans one day and be one of those great, courageous warriors he so fondly talked about!"

Scorch lashed his tail. "When I was a kit I tried to join the Clans! But every time I was rejected – all because of my kittypet roots, because of something I could not control! Because I was born a kittypet I was weaker, softer – _unworthy_ of Clan life! But I kept trying… until one day a proud, _noble_ warrior decided to lay claws on me!"

"Foolishness!" hissed Tinystar. "What warrior would attack a kit?!"

" _Bluestar,"_ snapped Scorch.

Tinystar swallowed.

Cloudtail trembled. "So you got your revenge," she determined, her voice shaky.

"Partly," Scorch admitted, his lip curling at the memory. "She – and all of you Clan cats – need to be shown that being born a Clan cat doesn't get you everything you ever wanted. It doesn't make you _better_ than the rest of us. You die just like we do."

Tinystar stiffened. He couldn't help but recall Scorch's devastating attack against Bluestar – how his claws had torn her apart like she was kit bedding. Just how vulnerable she was, even with nine lives ahead her. Cloudtail bristled to the ends of her fur.

"Your oh-so virtuous code and your faith in it puffs you up like roosters," Scorch went on. "It makes you arrogant and hostile to outsiders – even if those outsiders would be a boon to your Clans."

"But the Clans took Tinystar and I in!" snapped Cloudtail. "You can't blame us all for the decisions of individuals! Tinystar is a _hero_ now!"

Scorch shook his head. "ThunderClan only took you in because they saw themselves as weak," he hissed. "Bluestar told me so herself. ThunderClan was so desperate for new blood they didn't care where it came from – even from lowly kittypets."

Tinystar opened his jaws to counter – but he couldn't. Scorch was right – Tigerstar had admitted as much when he'd offered for Tinystar come to the forest, and again when Cloudtail had been brought in as a kit. _ThunderClan was so desperate for new warriors… they looked even to kittypets._

"Your Clan pride has led you to drive away those who could be useful to you – capable hunters and fighters, cast aside because they weren't wild-born." Scorch hunched his shoulders. "Who cares if they learned to hunt on birds in their backyard? Who cares if their fighting skills came from scrapping in alleys? You _Clans_ do."

He raised his head. Moonlight turned his pelt into a brand of white-hot fire. "So we – the disrespected, the cast-aside, the rejected – have come together to form our own Clan. BloodClan. Now we will be respected and acknowledged. Now it's _our_ turn to decide who comes and goes from this land."

Tinystar fought to keep his tail from trembling at the harshness of Scorch's words, at how hard they cut into his heart.

"We could find room for you," Tinystar offered. "We could-"

"We don't want some place to squeeze in, like a rabbit into a mouse hole," Scorch snapped. "Do you really think that would satisfy us?" His claws tore at the earth below him. "We want this forest. All of it! We want the Clans and their code and their pride _gone._ For good."

Silence filled the marsh. Tinystar stared at Scorch, his eyes wide and his heart sinking into a deep pit formed by his stomach. Cloudtail was trembling with fear or rage – Tinystar couldn't afford to take his eyes away from Scorch to make sure.

How could he say such things? The Clans had their faults, yes… but they were noble! The warrior code kept them above the rogues and loners who cared only for themselves. It kept queens safe and kits healthy. It kept borders secure and fresh-kill on the pile. Tinystar couldn't believe what he was hearing from Scorch – it challenged everything he'd ever grown up knowing about the Clans.

"You…" seethed Cloudtail, "you… you're no father of mine!" The patched she-cat spat at Scorch's paws. "You never were and you never will be!"

Her words bolstered Tinystar. He stood firm, planting his paws beside his niece. "Scorch… BloodClan… The Clans – and I – will fight to protect what we believe in."

"So shall we," Scorch mewed dismissively. "Leave. Now."


	29. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

 _Tinystar opened his eyes, more exhausted_ than when he'd gone to sleep. He'd dragged himself into his nest far after moonhigh, when the sky was just starting to lighten. Sandstorm hadn't stirred as he'd laid himself down, drained to his core, and shut his eyes. His dreams were fleeting and hard to catch, like a butterfly escaping a kit's claws – but his anger… it boiled like greenleaf flame.

Mouth dry, Tinystar forced himself to wake. Sandstorm had left the nest, her scent lingering still. The bulk of the Clan didn't know that he'd gone out last night. He had to project strength.

 _It's all for revenge._ He thought as he stretched, trying to force the sleepiness from his body. The more he thought about the meeting with Scorch last night, the more frantic energy filled him. His claws clutched his nest, some part of him pretending that the bedding was Scorch's pelt. _He's going to drive us all out because of petty revenge!_

Tinystar tried to force his fur to lie flat. It used to be Bluestar's actions that caused his temper to flare – it didn't help that her mentorship had nutured that part of him – but now it was Scorch. His own half-brother! A cat he'd looked up to as a kit, who'd tell him stories and come and visit Tinystar more than his own littermates!

He took a deep breath. _It does no good to get worked up now,_ he thought. _What's happening is happening – there's no changing it. If StarClan has pitted us against one another then I will do everything in my power to stop him._

Tinystar padded out of his den. Leaf-bare sunlight shone weakly down on the clearing, the cats in motion like flitting shadows in the gray dawn. No cat was panicking – it seemed as if no one knew he'd gone. Sandstorm was leading the kits off, all three bouncing around her and Stormpaw as they pushed through the gorse tunnel. Tawnypelt and Featherpaw followed.

Tinystar spotted Whitestorm with Mistypaw and Ashpaw near the camp walls. The two apprentices were patching the wall, weaving sticks in with paws and jaws to reinforce the camp's defenses. Tinystar padded over to Whitestorm's side, keeping an eye on the two. Ashpaw had a history of anger at Stonepaw – was he like that with Mistypaw?

"Everything is fine," Whitestorm mewed under his breath, as if he could hear Tinystar's thoughts. "They're both focused on their task – I thought that would be best."

"Thanks," Tinystar agreed. Mistypaw was still distraught over the loss of her brother – she needed to keep her paws busy. He wasn't sure if it would help Ashpaw, though. There might never be any way to make him see his denmates differently.

Tinystar blinked, putting his attention to the barrier itself. He imagined BloodClan rogues streaking through the forest and crashing into it with full force. He saw the barrier bending and swaying and breaking as a tide of BloodClan cats swarmed into the clearing. For a moment the quiet sounds of morning were replaced with the screaming of cats dying. Tinystar swallowed and shook away the vision.

And yet the gorse was waving for real.

Tinystar bristled, opening his jaws to call out warning – but only two shapes emerged. Two black-and-white shapes. Tinystar shut his jaws. It was Ravenpaw and Barley!

"Well, this is a surprise," Whitestorm admitted.

Tinystar's tail twitched. "Greetings, Ravenpaw. Barley."

Barley, who lived in the barn at the edge of the territories, looked uncomfortable being around so many cats. Tinystar guessed that the loner had never been in the heart of the Clan's territories before – he seemed alright with being just at the fringes. Ravenpaw, however, looked calm and comfortable, his eyes bright as he looked at Tinystar.

"We heard about what's going on from a WindClan patrol," Ravenpaw reported. "We set out as soon as we could – we want to help."

Whitestorm frowned. "Admirable," he admitted, "but is it really your place?"

Ravenpaw narrowed his eyes. "ThunderClan was my home. I might be a loner now, but part of me will always be a warrior."

"I understand that," Tinystar meowed. He looked to Barley. "But you? You have no reason to fight."

Barley shuffled on his paws. Ravenpaw laid his tail on his friend's back. "It's all right," the young loner mewed reassuringly. "Barley has some information for you, Tinystar. He thinks it might help."

Tinystar glanced at Whitestorm, who shrugged and turned his attention back to the apprentices at the barrier. Tinystar waved his tail for the loners to follow and led the way to a shady spot across the camp. The ferns that screened the medicine cat's den kept them from prying eyes, too.

Barley tucked his paws beneath him as he settled down. Ravenpaw sat on his haunches, his tail wrapped around his friend's bulk. Tinystar stifled a yawn and sat, curling his tail around his paws, leaning in to listen. He had to admit that curiosity was pricking his pelt – there was very little that any cat in the forest knew about their long-time loner neighbor.

"A-Alright…" Barley took a deep breath. "Here goes."

"I'm with you," Ravenpaw assured.

Barley shot him a grateful glance, tinged with affection. Tinystar wondered briefly if the two toms were more than just barnmates.

"I was once part of BloodClan," Barley announced.

Tinystar's ears pricked in surprise. The soft-pelted loner looked nothing like the ragged, skinny, muscular creatures that made up BloodClan.

"It's true," Barley mewed, gauging Tinystar's reaction. "I remember growing up in an alley… BloodClan territory took up half the Twolegplace, it seemed. It was just me and my mother – she taught me and my littermates how to hunt and fight. I don't know where our father was. We had to fight for and save nearly every scrap we could find."

Barley swallowed. "The Clans out here… you guys have queens and systems made to take care of kits. Everyone works together for their survivial – but there's nothing like that in BloodClan. It's every cat for themselves. Mothers teach their kits how to hunt and fight but once you're old enough you're on your own."

Ravenpaw murmured something comforting to Barley, to settle the tremor in his voice. Barley rumbled back.

"It gets brutal and violent." Barley's eyes grew haunted and dark with memories. "BloodClan adults don't usually challenge queens with kits but… when you come to a certain age it doesn't matter if you still rest at your mother's belly – you have claws and you have to use them. Cats take what they want – food, grimy puddles, other cats – it doesn't ever end. That's why I left."

"I'm so sorry," Tinystar mewed gently. "But there must be some sort of order – otherwise why have a leader at all?"

"There _is_ order – if you can call it that," Barley went on. "Whatever BloodClan was started for, I don't think that's what it is now. But there's a leader. There's an inner circle of cats who watch over parts of the territory and the groups that wander in it. Disputes are settled… in their own way. In the end, though, it's still survival of the fittest. You could hunt in a party of cats you'd known since you left your mother but if you can't contribute you're gone."

"Do you know how Scorch became leader?" The mention of his half-brother's name kindled the anger in Tinystar again.

"I don't know," Barley admitted. "When I was part of BloodClan there was a cat named Scourge in charge. Scorch must have killed him for the position – that would be the only way all of BloodClan would follow him."

Tinystar stiffened. His brother… a murderer? _You've seen just how dangerous he is,_ a small voice whispered. _He's always been capable. You've just been naïve._

"Why would any cat want to be part of that?" Tinystar mewed hoarsely, trying to punch down the anger growing in him. He tried to imagine how BloodClan worked – fighting and starving constantly for every scrap. No security when you grew too old or too hurt to fight. No thanks for your work.

"When you're in Twolegplace you're either a kittypet, loner, or a BloodClan cat," Barley admitted. "Loners don't last long in BloodClan territory. At least kittypets can hide in their nests for the most part. But you're either with BloodClan or against them. Absolute or nothing at all."

Tinystar frowned. BloodClan sounded like an awful deal – but starvation and looming death made cats do desperate things. "There must be some weakness," he guessed. "BloodClan outnumbers both WindClan and ThunderClan together. Anything will be helpful."

"They're fierce fighters and they rarely leave opponents alive," Barley answered, sympathy in his mew. "And they follow Scorch out of fear but that doesn't mean that most of them aren't nurturing darkness in their own hearts. But… they do have a weakness."

Tinystar leaned in close.

"They don't believe in StarClan," Barley stated.

Tinystar frowned. "How is that…?"

"A Clan without a code can exist, yeah – but is it really a Clan without StarClan?" Barley went on. "A Clan without a StarClan is missing something fundamental – faith. BloodClan runs on bloodlust and fearmongering – there's no faith in anything more than that."

Tinystar swallowed. "You're right," he breathed. "Without StarClan… without our ancestors… we wouldn't have any of their boons. No medicine cats to heal us, no omens to warn us of danger…"

"No nine lives," Ravenpaw finished meaningfully.

"No nine lives," Tinystar repeated.

 _Scorch doesn't have nine lives!_

He swallowed. Somehow the thought had never occurred to him – a Clan that didn't believe in StarClan? It seemed an impossible concept. Suddenly it felt like the task was somewhat easier – BloodClan was ruled through fear of Scorch. Eliminate Scorch and BloodClan would disperse. Yet that meant… eliminating Scorch.

 _My brother will have to die to save the Clans…_ Tinystar shuddered. There was still a part of him that dreaded the thought. _Oh StarClan!_

He swallowed again. "T-Thank you, Barley," he rasped. "This is very helpful."

"I hope so," Barley purred.

Ravenpaw waved his tail. "Barley and I will be there, Tinystar. We'll fight with you at Fourtrees."

Tinystar frowned. "This is not your battle."

"It is," Barley mewed firmly, getting to his paws. The loner's eyes were hard, and Tinystar wondered if he'd been taken far back in his memories, to his time with BloodClan. "If BloodClan takes over the forest it won't take them long to find the barn. They'll ravage it like they will the entire forest – and we won't be able to escape. We might live on the outskirts but what happens in the forest affects us, too."

"I'd shed blood for the Clans many times over," Ravenpaw agreed. "Especially for ThunderClan."

Gratitude swamped the fear and apprehension and anger welling within Tinystar now. He touched his nose to each of the loner's foreheads, stretching to reach Barley's round head.

"Thank you," he forced himself to purr. "Thank you both."

* * *

Barley and Ravenpaw's visit made Tinysar restless. After their departure – they stated they would stay with WindClan until the battle, to help them recover and prepare – Tinystar set off into the woods. He caught himself a thin mouse and ate it where it died, knowing his Clan was as full-fed as it could be in these lean times. Then he carried on to the training hollow.

The first batch of warriors out for training would be doubtless on to other tasks now, but the sandy hollow wouldn't be empty until the battle with BloodClan. Even in the night hours there would be training going on, thanks to Graystripe and Oakheart's schedule.

Tinystar picked his way up the ravine, following the trail to the sandy hollow. A flash of fur caught his eye – a patrol was heading his way. Tinystar raised his tail to greet Frostfur and Longtail as they mewed their own greetings and stopped before him.

"We're glad we caught you," Frostfur mewed. "We were patrolling Sunningrocks and we caught scent of ShadowClan and RiverClan across the river."

"Still?"

Longtail nodded, his pale eyes flashing thoughtfully. "Seems like ShadowClan is hiding there. Wonder if BloodClan has taken the marshes? Maybe they're trying to hang on to LionClan."

"Foolish, if you ask me," huffed Frostfur. "There just isn't enough room for two Clans in one spot!"

Tinystar waved his tail. "Go get some fresh-kill," he ordered. "Be ready for training."

Longtail and Frostfur dipped their heads and headed for the ravine. Tinystar watched them disappear into the spindly, dry undergrowth. He knew the patrol to the Thunderpath would confirm what Tinystar and Cloudtail had discovered the night before – that BloodClan was in ShadowClan's proper territory.

 _So LionClan hasn't properly split?_ He thought, setting his paws back on the trail to the sandy hollow. _Is Leopardstar really trying to hold them all together? How long can that last?_

Reaching the sandy hollow, Tinystar settled himself out on the fringes of ThunderClan's training area to let the warriors and apprentices have their proper space. Graystripe had Fernpaw and Snowpaw in one corner, while Sandstorm trained Willowpelt's kittens in another. Cinderpelt was going over ThunderClan-style moves with Featherpaw, Stormpaw, and Tawnypelt. Off to another side, Dustpelt was sparring with Brightheart and Swiftfoot while Cloudtail watched.

Tinystar looked proudly at his Clanmates, all training their hardest. The sandy hollow was more full than he'd ever seen it. He flicked his tail to Graystripe, who put Fernpaw and Snowpaw into a little bout before plodding over to greet Tinystar.

"How are things?" Tinystar asked.

"Well!" Graystripe mewed proudly. "BloodClan is going to tremble in their fur when they see us."

Tinystar purred. "I have to agree," he admitted, turning his eyes over the training cats. "Everyone is fighting like a warrior – even the kits."

As he said so, Sorrelkit and her siblings flew on Sandstorm, burying her in their pelts. Sandstorm's tail lashed from beneath the kits' onslaught and Tinystar had to hold back a purr of amusement at the sight. Sandstorm would never let him keep his pelt if he teased her about this – but then again, this was nothing to tease about.

"Excuse me," Graystripe mewed. "I've got to talk to Fernpaw about her claw work."

Tinystar nodded, letting the gray warrior go. Graystripe walked with a spring in his step he seemed to be lacking, and there was a happy twinkle in his eye. Was that because of being reunited with Silverstream? Tinystar pushed it away – he didn't want to think about what might happen to his old friend if Silverstream went back to RiverClan at the end of it all.

Sandstorm pulled herself out of the kitten pile, sporting a decent scratch on her spine. She raised her tail to end the fighting.

"No claws, Rainkit!" she ordered.

"Sorry," the gray tom mewed.

"Why not have claws?" Sorrelkit piped up. "BloodClan isn't gonna keep their claws sheathed!"

Sandstorm fluffed up her neck fur. "No proper Clan cat trains with claws unsheathed!"

"Dappletail says ShadowClan does," mewed Sootkit.

"We're not ShadowClan!" Sandstorm stated firmly. "We're ThunderClan, and claws are _sheathed!_ When you three are apprentices I'll pity your mentors!"

"But we want _you_ to be our mentor!" Rainkit squealed.

"Yeah!" Sootkit clamored.

Sorrelkit stood up on her hind paws, swiping at their air with practiced strikes. "You can train all three of us, can't you?"

Tinystar purred, his whiskers twitching in amusement.

Sandstorm looked up, her tail fluffing as she caught Tinystar's eye. "Hold a moment, kits," she meowed to the three bundles. "Tinystar is here."

"Oh, wow!" Sootkit gasped.

Suddenly Tinystar was surrounded by the kits, all three bouncing up and down around him. Their fur was dusted with sand and their pelts were rumpled but none of them seemed the least bit tired by their training. Sandstorm touched her nose to Tinystar's in greeting.

Tinystar leaned over his mate and ran his tongue along her scratch. Not deep, but the kits had managed to penetrate her leaf-bare thick fur. Sandstorm purred at the gesture.

"Tinystar! Tinystar!" called Rainkit. "Sandstorm can be our mentor, right?"

" _All_ of us?" Sorrelkit added.

Tinystar looked down at the kits, his whiskers twitching. "She can only mentor one of you," he said gently. "That way she can put all her energy into her apprentice properly."

"Well, I want it to be me!" Sorrelkit decided, her tail standing straight up.

"What about me?" Rainkit huffed.

Sootkit fluffed his pelt. "Well, whatever – I want to be _Tawnypelt's_ apprentice."

"We can't be her apprentice!" Rainkit clamored. "She's our _sister!"_

"So?" Sootkit's little tail lashed. "She's just as good a warrior as Sandstorm!"

Sorrelkit got down on her haunches. "Well, can Tawnypelt do _this?"_ She pounced on her brother, and the two disappeared in a tangle of gray-and-tortoiseshell fur.

Rainkit watched, sighing. "Of _course_ she could," he muttered. "A pounce? _Every_ cat can pounce…"

"They're a pawful," Tinystar decided, watching the tussle.

"You have no idea," Sandstorm agreed, leaning against him a moment. "But their energy is admirable."

Tinystar looked up at his mate. He could see the wistfulness in her eyes as she watched the kits practice their battle moves. He rubbed his chin against her shoulder. "If you want one of them as your apprentice, just ask."

Sandstorm stiffened. "I… I suppose. I'd like Sorrelkit, I think. If things work out."

Tinystar frowned. Was his mate still worried for Stonepaw? Did she hold out hope her apprentice would return?

But the look Sandstorm gave him was more intense than that. Sandstorm wasn't worried about one lost apprentice – she was worried about the Clans as a whole. If BloodClan drove them out, the warrior code and the lives they built wouldn't matter anymore. Mentor and apprentice would disappear, along with everything else.

"We'll win," he assured her quietly. "We have to."

He let Sandstorm go and resume her training with the kits. The three followed after her eagerly, their tails up. They'd be ready for a good long sleep when they went back to the nursery – and when their apprenticeships began Tinystar could see them being some of the best warriors ThunderClan ever had.

Tinystar turned his attention to Swiftfoot and Brightheart. The two crippled warriors were facing Dustpelt – a formidable opponent in his own right. Dustpelt lunged across the sand, closing the distance between himself and Brightheart – but any hopes of tackling the "easier" of the two were dashed as Brightheart leaped back and Swiftfoot took her place.

Dustpelt crashed into Swiftfoot, who used the momentum to wrap his paws around Dustpelt's neck. With a heave, Swiftfoot shoved Dustpelt's face into the dust.

"Get off you lump!" Dustpelt hissed. "My mouth is full of sand!"

"Not until you surrender!" Brightheart crowed, her tail twitching.

Dustpelt wriggled more and then sagged. "Fine – fine! I surrender!"

Swiftfoot purred as he released Dustpelt from his grip. Dustpelt got back to his paws, looking dizzy. He shook his head to clear it and then the rest of himself to loosen the sand in his pelt. He looked between the two crippled warriors. "Didn't see that coming, honestly," he admitted. "Think you could teach me that?"

"We'll teach you all," Brightheart promised. Beside her, Swiftfoot scoffed, rolling his eyes. "There's no reason we can't all fight for our Clan."

Tinystar made his way to Cloudtail's side. "They're doing so well," he praised. "Swiftfoot especially."

"I don't know where he comes up with these moves," Cloudtail admitted, her eyes flashing with admiration. "But they're always astounding – and Brightheart is clever herself, too!"

Before them the three warriors got back into position for another bout. It wasn't long before Dustpelt was on his belly again, begging for mercy – this time because of Brightheart's snakelike movements. Cloudtail puffed out her chest.

Tinystar felt pride, too. All of his Clanmates were so skilled! Though his muscles itched to join in on the training – it felt like moons since he'd used his claws for anything but hunting – he turned to Cloudtail again.

"We should go and see Fiona," he meowed.

Cloudtail stiffened. Tinystar knew that the previous night had taken a great toll on her emotionally. He was fully prepared for her to refuse – but she was slowly nodding in agreement. "We can't keep her in the dark," she murmured. "She needs to know what my father… what Scorch has become."

Tinystar licked her between the ears. Cloudtail said a quick good-bye to her mates, promising to return swiftly. Then the two were off, their paws on the trail to Twolegplace.

* * *

They traveled in silence through Tallpines and into Twolegplace, reaching Fiona's nest just after sunhigh. There were plenty of kittypets out and about, lying on their bellies to relish the sunlight before it got too cold to enjoy it. They paid no mind to the two forest cats slinking along the bottoms of their fences.

"We shouldn't tell her about last night," Tinystar decided as they reached Fiona's fence. Her scent clouded the air on the other side. "The rest of it is going to be hard enough as it is."

"Yeah," Cloudtail agreed. She gave a powerful leap and balanced on the top of the fence a moment before disappearing over the edge.

Tinystar followed, scrabbling a little to get over. His shorter height always made jumping a bit of a chore. He landed on all four paws in Fiona's garden in time to see the pure white she-cat greeting her daughter with a purr, the bell on her collar tinkling gently.

"Cloudtail, it feels like seasons since we've seen each other!" Fiona fretted. "Don't be a stranger!"

"Mother…" Cloudtail sighed, wincing as Fiona rasped her tongue along her thick pelt.

Fiona's ears perked up as Tinystar came into view. "Tinyclaw! There you are – you look so thin! Are you eating properly? The cold must have driven off so much prey…"

Tinystar's ear flicked at hearing his old name. He coughed awkwardly.

"Mother – he's Tiny _star_ now. He's Clan leader!" Cloudtail pointed out.

Fiona's ear flicked. "Tinystar…?" She tested the name on her tongue, looking slightly cross. "You Clan cats go through names quicker than a kitten shreds a toy, I swear!"

The pretty white she-cat shook her head. Then, she sighed, her big blue eyes sympathetic. "That must mean that Tigerstar has passed? I'm so sorry, Tinystar."

Tinystar nodded. "He did, yes," he reported. "Things have been so busy, I'm sorry we haven't been able to come to give you proper updates."

Fiona flicked her tail. "Well it's no wonder – you're leader now! Doubtless you've got many responsibilities! You won't always be able to make time to visit." Though the thought clearly made her sad, she put on a brave face. Tinystar felt a prickle of admiration for the kittypet queen, who almost always refuted Clan perceptions of how a kittypet ought to behave.

"I haven't heard those dogs in a while, either," Fiona breathed. "They must have moved on."

 _In a way,_ Tinystar thought. He didn't have time to go through the entire story, so he simply nodded.

"Well then – you're leader now and everything seems to be all right in the forest, so why do you both look like someone's trying to chew your hind legs?" Fiona demanded. She looked between her kit and her friend. "What's happening out there?"

Tinystar swallowed. Cloudtail's jaws seemed firmly shut, unwilling to tell her mother what was happening. So it fell to Tinystar to tell her everything he was willing to – about Rusty and Scorch, about BloodClan, and about the attack in two dawns' time.

Fiona let out a wail.

"I knew it!" she cried. "I _knew_ something was going on with him and those nasty cats!" She slumped against Cloudtail. "How could he do this? I kept warning him they were bad news and now…"

"I don't know." Tinystar moved to comfort her, resting his tail against her flank. "I don't think Scorch was ever the cat we thought we knew, Fiona." Cloudtail murmured her agreement, her eyes pools of sorrow.

"I loved him, Tinystar," Fiona whimpered. "I loved him so much…"

"I know."

Fiona let herself shake for a moment longer before she straightened up. She ran a trembling paw along her whiskers to straighten them, as if that would calm her. She looked between Cloudtail and Tinystar.

"Please," she mewed quietly, "be careful, the both of you. That BloodClan is ruthless and evil and they never stop until they have what they want."

"We'll win," Cloudtail meowed confidently. She butted her head against her mother's shoulder. "We always do!"

Fiona didn't look totally reassured – she stared right into Tinystar's eyes, and the small black tom realized he knew what the kittypet was thinking.

 _We always seem to make it out… but not without losing cats along the way._


	30. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

" _Tinystar – a word."_

Tinystar paused at the edge of the ravine, watching Whitestorm climb up to meet him. The pure white tom was glowing in the darkness. Tinystar was alone – he'd sent Cloudtail off to hunt after their visit with Fiona. He'd just wanted time to think by himself, but his thoughts were so cluttered Tinystar wasn't certain he could ever untangle them, even in the quiet forest.

"What's going on?" Tinystar asked. "Is everything all right?"

Whitestorm paused – and then shrugged. "Other than BloodClan looming over us like a full moon, everything is fine. Patrols and training are going well, and the Clan is strong and united."

Tinystar nodded in affirmation. "You've done a good job."

Whitestorm's eyes didn't shine at the praise like Tinystar thought they would. The white tom instead sat on his haunches, turning to look down at the camp in the shadow of the ravine. Tinystar followed his gaze, looking down at the cats of ThunderClan, who were shifting themselves from day to night. Oakheart was waking up, raising his tail to the other warriors whose duties and training would be in the shadow of the moonlight.

Tinystar glanced at Whitestorm. His face was full of thought.

"I… have doubts," Whitestorm meowed, as if he could sense Tinystar's questioning glance. "About all of this, I mean."

Confused, Tinystar tilted his head. Whitestorm was never a cat who seemed to have doubts in all the seasons Tinystar had known him. He'd always been sure of heart and mind.

Quietly, Whitestorm went on: "Wouldn't it be better in the long run if we were to flee and leave the forest for BloodClan? All this fighting and bloodshed… the lives we lose… will it be worth it in the end if there's hardly anyone left to call this forest home?"

Tinystar's eyes widened, shocked at Whitestorm's frankness. "This forest belongs to the Clans!" he insisted. "We _have_ to fight for it! No Clan cat could ever rest easily knowing that we'd fled like cowards."

Whitestorm frowned. "We've made this forest our home, yes – but we do not _own_ the world around us, Tinystar," he reasoned. "And there is no cowardice in knowing when to pick one's battles. A leader must know how to weigh the risks!"

Tinystar bristled. And yet as he looked into Whitestorm's sandy yellow eyes, Tinystar knew that his words weren't a challenge. He could see the seasons in Whitestorm's face, and Tinystar knew that a warrior his age should have been in the elder's den moons ago. _He doesn't want this to be his Clan's last battle._

 _He doesn't want it to be_ his _last battle._

"We need to fight," Tinystar meowed gently. "This is for the Clan's future. We don't own this forest but it _is_ our home – the home of all four Clans. It has been for seasons uncountable. We can't just abandon it when we're tested like this."

Whitestorm's expression did not relax. "I admire your conviction," he admitted. "You know I will follow you until the end, Tinystar. But it is part of my duty to give you my opinion."

Tinystar touched his nose to Whitestorm's ear. "We'll have many moons of leading ThunderClan together," he insisted. "You'll see."

Whitestorm did not reply. He merely dipped his head and clambered down the ravine. Tinystar watched his deputy disappear into the gorse tunnel, and saw his white shape pass through the clearing and meet with Oakheart before heading into the warrior's den.

Tinystar longed to join his Clan in sleep but Whitestorm's words made him restless. He got to his paws again and let them take him where they liked – they followed the ravine and set themselves on the well-worn trail to Sunningrocks.

Soon enough the stones came into view, and Tinystar walked among them. Many battles had been fought with RiverClan over the cold, smooth stones – many cats had been injured or killed. Had it all that fighting and death been worth it?

Tinystar sat on his haunches in the shadow of one of the stones. He looked up at the stars, seeing Silverpelt swirl above him in a thick band of starlight.

 _Am I doing the right thing?_ He wondered. _Is Whitestorm right?_ Would _it be better for us to flee?_ Was the upcoming battle with BloodClan no different than the countless battles fought for Sunningrocks, in the end? He tried to tell himself that it wasn't – but in the end, weren't they both just fights over pieces of land that the cats had no true claim over? Was it just another battle for the right to smell a certain territory marker on a tree?

Exhausted, Tinystar curled up into a ball on grassy-and-pebbly shore. He didn't want to sleep quite yet – but the sound of the gently moving river lulled him easily into his dreams.

* * *

Tinystar opened his eyes to look up at a bright, full moon. Like his dream at the Moonstone, the stars were gathered so close he thought his whiskers could touch them. Fourtrees loomed above, swaying in a soft, warm breeze that took the chill from Tinystar's pelt. The air smelled of starlight.

 _I'm in StarClan!_ Tinystar realized.

Tinystar got to his paws, looking around. The Fourtrees of the forest paled in comparison to the Fourtrees of StarClan, glittering with starlight and leaf-full branches. The Great Rock sparkled like frost, and even the dark shape that moved upon it was full of starlight.

"Tigerstar!" Tinystar breathed, stunned.

The big tabby tom leaped down from the Great Rock in a single, fluid bound. His muscles rippled in the moonlight as he padded across the hollow to meet Tinystar, who was still stunned to see his former leader in such good health, with such bright and alert eyes.

"Welcome," Tigerstar purred, flicking an ear at Tinystar.

Tinystar dipped his head.

"You are troubled, Tinystar," Tigerstar rumbled. "Please, tell me what is on your mind."

Tinystar lifted his head, searching Tigerstar's gaze. There was only genuine worry for his successor in the amber depths.

"Why did StarClan let this happen?" Tinystar asked. "Why did you stop me from telling the truth about Bluestar – why did you let the dogs or BloodClan be brought to the forest? Your job is to protect the Clans, right? Why allow all this to happen, then? All this misery and pain… why?"

Tigerstar's whiskers twitched. "StarClan's powers are not absolute, Tinystar," he responded. "We cannot change fate – simply watch and listen and convey what we see that may aid you. Not all things are the will of StarClan. We do not rule this forest like the sun rules the sky."

Tinystar blinked in surprise. Tigerstar went on: "If we interfered in every aspect of Clan life, then the life of a Clan cat would not be worth living. It would not be a free life.

"We watch and listen and guide, Tinystar, but we cannot control. We have been watching and listening and guiding for a very long time, reading the signs we see carefully. They all led to this moment – this battle with BloodClan has been foretold for seasons, and all StarClan could do was nudge you down the right path until the time came."

Tigerstar waved his tail at the sky. "StarClan did not lead you here by your nose, Tinystar. We did not pull your whiskers with our teeth to make you leave your Twoleg nest. You came here because you have always possessed the heart of a forest cat – the capability to be Clan in all ways, to be even more a Clan cat than some who were born to the Clans. Your faith will give you the strength you need, as it always has before."

Tinystar swallowed. "I _know_ fighting BloodClan is the right thing, even if… even if what that means hurts," he admitted. He thought of his claws sinking into Scorch's throat and trembled. Scorch might be a monster but somewhere in Tinystar's heart he would always be Rusty. "Whitestorm thought we should leave."

Tigerstar's eyes grew sympathetic. "Whitestorm is right to worry," he purred. "He was always very good at that – and you know very well by now that the right answer isn't always the answer we want to hear."

"They outnumber us," Tinystar insisted. "Isn't there something you can do to help?"

Tigerstar touched his nose to Tinystar's forehead. The contact was frosty and soft. "The answer is closer than you think, Tinystar. Open your eyes, and you will see it."

Tinystar opened his jaws to ask for more clarification – but Tigerstar was fading into mist. By the time Tinystar closed his jaws, his former leader was gone, and Tinystar was alone in the hollow.

 _Closer than I think?_ He thought. Tinystar sank his claws into the soft earth, looking up at the stars swirling overhead. _StarClan has already given what help it can._

 _Now it is up to us._


	31. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

 _Tinystar opened his eyes to be_ blinded by sharp dawn light glaring off of the river in front of him. He groaned, feeling foolish as he got to his paws. His body felt cold and sore from sleeping on the pebbly shore instead of in his warm, mossy nest. _Sandstorm must be furious! What kind of leader just doesn't come back to camp?_

He stretched and began to smooth his pelt down with his tongue. The sun was rising over the horizon, a flaming orange ball reflecting in the river, touching the willows and reeds on the other side.

The river…

Tinystar stopped his grooming, his tongue still out.

" _The answer is closer than you think, Tinystar. Open your eyes, and you will see it,"_ Tigerstar had said.

"I'm a mouse-brain," he decided, staring at the land across the water. "A total mouse-brain."

Leopdarstar was still leader of LionClan – or at least, she was holding ShadowClan and RiverClan with her on her territory. With leaf-bare here to stay and twice as many mouths to feed… she had to be having a difficult time. Tinystar knew that the shock of losing Bluestar to BloodClan's claws would have devastated LionClan's morale, too.

 _They have to want BloodClan gone, too,_ he realized. _They killed Bluestar, if nothing else – and they threaten the whole forest!_

Tinystar shivered with understanding. _Four can't become two and hope to defeat BloodClan – four has to be come one!_ Bluestar's original goal of uniting all the forest Clans might be able to save the forest – but not in the way that Bluestar thought.

 _No time to waste,_ he thought. _BloodClan is going to attack tomorrow._

Tinystar gave his fur one last quick shake before getting to his paws. He trotted along the shoreline, heart pounding in his ears as he headed for the stepping-stones.

"Great StarClan – here he is!"

The call from the forest stopped Tinystar in his tracks. He spotted Cloudtail's bright white tail before she pushed her way through the undergrowth. Sandstorm, Mistypaw, and Graystripe followed her.

Tinystar swallowed, feeling doubly foolish. Of _course_ some cat would come looking for him! He'd been gone all night like some misbehaving apprentice!

Sandstorm cuffed him over the ear as soon as she reached him. "Mouse-brain!" she hissed, worry and annoyance in her gaze. The annoyance faded quickly, though – she covered his face with licks. Tinystar purred, ducking away from her, embarrassment flooding his pelt.

"We weren't really worried," Graystripe pointed out, his yellow eyes sparkling with amusement. "We knew you'd come back eventually – we just thought we'd keep an eye out for you on our patrol."

"If I had that much pressure on me, I'd want to get away too," Cloudtail offered, flicking her tail.

Sandstorm scoffed at them both. "You're mouse-brains, too," she grumbled, planting herself beside Tinystar.

"I just wanted some time to myself," Tinystar insisted. "To think. I dozed off, it seems."

Sandstorm flicked her tail. "Then let's get back to the Clan," she meowed. "We've a lot of work to do!"

Tinystar shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't just yet – I've had an idea!"

Graystripe tipped his head. "Oh?"

"I'm going to talk to Leopardstar," Tinystar explained. At their doubting, worried looks, Tinystar insisted, "Leopardstar is over that river with two whole Clans' worth of warriors. We can't overlook the possibility that they might help us!"

Worry clouded Graystripe's yellow gaze. "Yeah, but… remember last time? It didn't go so well."

"And it's probably no use," Cloudtail pointed out. "Leopardstar was loyal to Bluestar. She probably doesn't want anything to do with us."

Sandstorm twitched her whiskers. "Regardless of what Leopardstar thought before, Bluestar is gone. There's no way she wants BloodClan to run amok in the forest," she mewed.

Mistypaw, who up until this point had said nothing, piped in, "If you go Tinystar, I'm coming too. Stonepaw left when LionClan did, and Mosspaw and I are really worried about him. What if he wants to come home?"

Tinystar swallowed, looking at his apprentice. There was no way he'd refuse her a chance to hear out her brother – and Tinystar wanted to hear what Stonepaw had to say for himself, too. "You can come," he agreed.

"Cloudtail," he went on, "go back to camp and tell Whitestorm what's happening. We'll be back as soon as we can."

Cloudtail waved her plumy tail. "All right," she meowed. "I'll be sure to have a patrol ready to bail you out again."

"Hopefully it won't come to that," Tinystar purred.

"Knowing you? It probably will!" Cloudtail crowed. She turned her back and bounded into the trees, disappearing into the sparse undergrowth.

Tinystar turned about and raised his tail to signal his patrol to follow. The stepping-stones were just ahead, and across the river was LionClan. With hope in his heart and Tigerstar's words in his mind, Tinystar set off.

* * *

They encountered no LionClan cats as Tinystar led the way to the Bonehill. Tinystar was not eager to see that monument to carnage again, but he guessed it might be the most obvious place to find the LionClan cats. Beside him, Sandstorm was tense, her eyes flashing with concern as she searched for oncoming patrols.

"What in StarClan is _that?"_ gasped Mistypaw, wrinkling her nose.

"It's an abomination!" Sandstorm decided.

Tinystar frowned at the Bonehill up ahead. It rose over the scrubby RiverClan territory like a mountain of death. The smell in the air, however, was not the reek of crow-food that Tinystar had encountered last time. _It seems like Leopardstar has cleaned things up a little._

"That's the Bonehill," Graystripe told them. "And it looks like we were right to come here."

Tinystar nodded in agreement. All around the Bonehill were LionClan cats – but they didn't seem like proper, active Clan cats. They drifted listlessly, their eyes and pelts dull, their paws dragging in the dust. Some lay and barley moved, like their spirit had been drained from them. Some cats were looking directly at the foreign patrol in their land… and they did nothing.

Mistypaw bristled. "I don't like this," she murmured. "It's… like a nightmare."

"There just isn't room here for this many cats," Graystripe muttered.

Sandstorm rolled her eyes. "Almost as if joining Clans is _unnatural_ or something!" she huffed.

"Hush," Tinystar chided. "It'll do no good for our cause if we insult them. With BloodClan in ShadowClan's territory, where else can they all go?"

Tinystar spotted Leopardstar and Russetfur sitting together below the Bonehill. Both she-cats were dull-eyed and tired, their paws caked with mud. Tinystar raised his tail and called a cautious greeting before leading his patrol out of the reeds and into the clearing.

Leopardstar said nothing as Tinystar approached. Russetfur curled her lip, but also remained silent. The cats of LionClan drifted around them – not many reacted to the visitors. Only one unsheathed their claws. No one seemed to care at all otherwise.

 _This isn't how a Clan should be,_ Tinystar thought. He looked at Leopardstar, once proud and sleek and strong. Now she was tired, alone, and stressed. _She really can't manage all this on her own._

"Mistypaw, go and find Stonepaw," Tinystar meowed. "But be careful."

Mistypaw nodded and took off into the crowd. Some cats looked after her – but they did not move to stop her as she disappeared into the reeds.

Tinystar settled himself before Leopardstar and Russetfur. Graystripe and Sandstorm flanked him, both alert for any attempts to strike.

"Tinystar," rasped Leopardstar. "To what do we owe this visit?"

Tinystar waved his tail at the cats all around. "What's happening here, Leopardstar? Are these cats sick? Where are their dens? The fresh-kill pile?"

Leopardstar shifted on her paws. Russetfur did not meet Tinystar's eye. Leopardstar meowed, "RiverClan's camp is not big enough for all of us. I am the sole leader of LionClan and they needed shelter somewhere. This was the only place with any room."

The dappled she-cat's eyes flashed. "There's not much point, though," she breathed. "BloodClan will slaughter us all in the end."

"That's not true," Tinystar insisted. It broke his heart to see this once-proud she-cat seemingly broken. "If all four of us join together to stop BloodClan tomorrow, we may be able to beat them back! We can fight for this forest as one!"

Russetfur's ear twitched. "We'll still be outnumbered," she reasoned. "BloodClan is ruthless. They don't stop to let their opponents go."

Tinystar frowned. "Four is still better than two," he pointed out. "This forest is LionClan's home, too – you should be fighting for it, not cowering in the rain like you've already died!"

Russetfur's tail lashed, the hair on her shoulders bristling – but she didn't say anything. The ginger she-cat looked to Leopardstar. The dappled she-cat was clearly musing over the idea in her mind, her expression turning thoughtful.

After a moment, Leopardstar sighed, "We've been looking for a new home, someplace far enough away – but there just isn't enough time. We have young and elderly… not everyone would make it. I don't want to lose any more Clanmates."

"You're going to either way," Tinystar meowed sympathetically. He could see the grief in her eyes and wondered if she was thinking of Brambleclaw. "But will they die fleeing, or fighting for the home they love? If LionClan joins with WindClan and ThunderClan, I _know_ we can overcome BloodClan!"

Leopardstar swallowed, her tail-tip twitching. She looked to Russetfur.

"He speaks some sense," Russetfur admitted. "We're out of time and out of options, Leopardstar. We can either sit here and die or fight for our home, and frankly… I don't want to die doing nothing."

Leopardstar blinked fondly at the russet she-cat. "Very well," she rasped. Some life seemed to return to her eyes as she looked at Tinystar. "LionClan will -"

"LionClan will do _nothing!"_ hissed a voice.

Tinystar turned, the hairs rising on his spine. Darkstripe was there, just behind him, his paws planted in the muddy earth. The tabby tom's shoulders were poking through his pelt, and his yellow eyes were wild and ugly with hate as he looked at Tinystar.

"LionClan will _not_ join this _kittypet,"_ Darkstripe spat. "Leopardstar, I didn't think you were so mouse-brained! He intends to get us all killed!"

"Shut your mouth, Darkstripe!" snapped Russetfur. She got to her paws, bristling to the ends of her fur in anger. "You're not leader here!"

Leopardstar's ear twitched, and the eyes with which she looked upon Darkstripe were filled with ambivalence. "You were one of the cats that got us into this horrible mess," she stated stonily. "You've no right to speak here, Darkstripe."

Darkstripe dug his claws into the earth, hissing, "Bluestar should have listened to me – RiverClan was always weak! She _never_ should have sought your allegiance! Fish-heart!"

Tinystar had to scramble to the side as, quick as a fish, Leopardstar's claws flashed out. Bright red weals appeared on Darkstripe's cheek as the tom slunk down onto his belly. Tinystar was shocked at Leopardstar's burst of energy – he could see the fire of pride that had always been in her eyes blazing again like an inferno.

The dappled she-cat was bristling with indignation. "If you don't like it here, Darkstripe, then _leave,"_ she snarled.

Darkstripe quivered beneath her. "B-BloodClan will kill you all!" he stammered, scrambling to his paws. His eyes flashed at the onlookers – Leopardstar's quick action had breathed some life into the LionClan cats who had been lying about listlessly. "You'll see!"

"Leave," Russetfur snapped, stepping forward. "No cat ever wanted you here, Darkstripe. Your words were always poison and your claws were dull as dirt, you coward!"

Darkstripe's tail bristled. The gray tom turned and scrambled away – but not before laying hateful looks upon Tinystar and his patrol, as if it were their fault that Leopardstar and Russetfur had finally had enough of him. He pushed his way through the crowd of cats and disappeared into the reeds along the riverbank.

Leopardstar shook out her coat. "Worthless flea-pelt," she hissed. "If I never see him again it will be too soon."

Tinystar saw a blaze of hatred in her eyes as she watched Darkstripe go. He couldn't imagine what it was like for her to have to deal with him. Darkstripe had been simpering before, but it had gotten worse when he had abandoned ThunderClan.

Graystripe grunted awkwardly. Tinystar glanced at him, wondering what he felt, seeing his half-brother flee – but it seemed like Graystripe didn't care much. Sandstorm's tail twitched against Tinystar's flank, calling his attention back to Leopardstar, who was staring at him now.

Tinystar swallowed. "That was good of you," he meowed. He gestured with his tail to the cats gathered around them. "Look at them – they want you to be the leader you once were, Leopardstar."

Leopardstar narrowed her eyes at Tinystar – but she did not snap at him. She only nodded in understanding, and lifted her chin. Tinystar saw eyes light up all around. _A leader's strength is the strength of their Clan,_ he thought, watching Leopardstar's renewing pride ripple into her Clan.

"Why did Bluestar bring BloodClan to the forest?" Sandstorm wondered.

Leopardstar frowned. Then she sighed. "Bluestar was never as open about her plans as I had hoped," she admitted quietly. "That rat Darkstripe had suggested bringing in some extra muscle to convince the Clans to join Bluestar."

"It backfired," Russetfur grunted, "obviously."

Tinystar licked his shoulder fur in thought. BloodClan had been Darkstripe's idea? _He had no idea that Bluestar had attacked Scorch as a kitten… and it didn't seem like Bluestar recognized Scorch, either._ What would have happened if Darkstripe hadn't happened into a cat who wanted revenge on Bluestar?

"Darkstripe won't sit quietly," Graystripe pointed out. "He worshipped the ground Bluestar walked on."

Hatred blazed in Leopardstar's eye. "If he shows his face anywhere near my Clan again, I'll kill him myself," she hissed. "You have no idea the damage that snake has done."

Tinystar frowned, wondering just what Darkstripe had managed to do when he seemed like such a failure. How had he upset Leopardstar so? Looking into the dappled she-cat's eye, he knew he didn't want to question it.

Russetfur waved her tail at the crowd. "Boulder! Where are you?" she called. "Come forward."

The crowd parted. A skinny gray tom limped forward, his eyes sunken and huge in his hollow frame. Tinystar wondered if he was starving – but he didn't smell sickness on him. Perhaps that was just how Boulder was.

Boulder dipped his head to Russetfur and Leopardstar. Russetfur nodded to Boulder and the skinny tom admitted, "I was once part of BloodClan. Darkstripe used me to make contact with them again. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Russetfur insisted. "We were all perhaps a little too quick to listen to Bluestar and her crony."

Boulder swallowed, nodding. "Most of her followers fled when she died," he rasped. "I'm betting they joined BloodClan."

"Why?" Sandstorm asked, curling her lip.

"Cats like Jaggedtooth and the others… they follow strength," Boulder rasped. "And BloodClan seemed mighty strong that day."

Tinystar sighed. So more cats had fled to join BloodClan? _That's certainly not evening up our numbers,_ he fretted.

"Give me a moment, Tinystar," Leopardstar meowed, jolting Tinystar out of his thoughts. "I need to gather my Clan."

"Very well," Tinystar meowed. "I'm glad you're joining us, Leopardstar."

Leopardstar's eyes flashed. "The forest has always been my home," she rasped, looking out at the willows and reeds around her. "If I don't fight for it… what kind of warrior am I?"

"Tinystar!"

Tinystar looked into the crowd, seeing Mistypaw pushing her way through from the direction of RiverClan's camp. As she drew closer, Tinystar could see her eyes sparkling with sadness.

"Stonepaw wants to speak to you," she murmured.

Tinystar touched his nose to her forehead. She looked so upset… _It's not news either of us want to hear,_ he guessed. "Lead the way, Mistypaw," he offered gently.

Mistypaw led him through the crowd of cats. Sandstorm and Graystripe remained in the clearing at his behest – he didn't want to overwhelm Stonepaw, even if Sandstorm was just as eager to know what her apprentice had to say for himself. Mistypaw and Tinystar pushed through the reeds and into another clearing, this one much smaller, where Stonepaw was waiting.

"Stonepaw," Tinystar greeted.

"Tinystar," Stonepaw returned, dipping his head. There was nothing bashful about his gaze as he lifted his head. "I don't want to come back to ThunderClan."

"Please," Mistypaw begged, stepping between Tinystar and Stonepaw, her eyes big and pleading. "Make him see sense! He _has_ to come home!"

Sorrow for his apprentice bit Tinystar's heart like a fox. He lifted his head and meowed, "I can't, Mistypaw. Stonepaw is grown enough now, he can make his own decisions… and he's made a warrior's decision to be sure."

Mistypaw said nothing, hanging her head.

Stonepaw's eyes widened as he looked at Tinystar, stunned. "Y-You're alright with this?" he gasped.

Tinystar nodded solemnly. "I think… somewhere deep down we all knew how this was going to end," he reasoned. And it was true – somewhere deep in his heart Tinystar knew that Stonepaw wouldn't be coming back. "A cat can't be told where he belongs – he finds his place himself."

"Thank you, Tinystar," Stonepaw breathed. "I'm happier with ShadowClan than I ever have been in ThunderClan. Please… tell Sandstorm I said thank you, and that I'm really sorry."

"Tell her yourself," Tinystar told him. "She's prickly… but she'll understand."

Mistypaw leaned on her brother. "We'll never see you again…" she breathed. "I don't want that, Stonepaw."

Stonepaw licked his sister's ear. "I need this, Mistypaw," he told her earnestly. "You and Mosspaw will always be my sisters… and Oakheart will always be my father."

Mistypaw sniffled. "I-I know," she stammered. "I'm happy you're finally happy, Stonepaw."

Tinystar heard his name called from the Bonehill clearing. He turned and left the apprentices alone together for their moment, heading for the source. Russetfur met him halfway through the reeds, her green eyes flashing towards Stonepaw and then back to Tinystar.

"He told you, then?" she guessed.

Tinystar nodded. "If he's happy in ShadowClan, then he's happy," he meowed. His heart felt lighter about the situation after saying it. "There's nothing to be done about it."

Russetfur nodded. "A cat makes their own choice about where they belong," she agreed, her tone knowing.

Tinystar blinked at her curiously.

Russetfur's whiskers twitched crossly. "Did you think you were the only kittypet-turned-warrior in the forest? ThunderClan cats have bigger egos than I thought!"

Tinystar purred. "I just can't imagine _you_ being a kittypet," he admitted.

"Many cats say the same about you, too," Russetfur pointed out.

"Stonepaw is in good paws, then," Tinystar guessed.

Russetfur flicked her ear. "I enjoy mentoring him. He's very keen, and surprisingly analytical for a cat his age – now are we going to stop chattering like jackdaws? Leopardstar wants you to see this."

Tinystar dipped his head in acknowledgement, letting Russetfur lead the way. As they headed for the Bonehill, hearing Leopardstar's summons echo over the territory, Tinystar did try to imagine Russetfur as a kittypet – plump and soft-furred, with a jingling collar around her neck.

It didn't fit her.

Graystripe and Sandstorm met Tinystar and Russetfur at the edge of the crowd. Tinystar was shocked at just how many LionClan cats still remained. Even queens had their kits gathered with them for this meeting, and elders huddled together in the back with the apprentices. Mistypaw touched noses with Stonepaw before moving to join the rest of ThunderClan. She pressed against Graystripe, as if she wanted to sink into his thick pelt and forget her brother wasn't coming home with her.

Leopardstar stood at the top of the Bonehill, and she waited for Russetfur to join her before she began to speak: "Cats of LionClan, hear me! Tomorrow we will join ThunderClan and WindClan in the battle against BloodClan. This is a threat that we cannot ignore. We are warriors! We _must_ face it!"

Tinystar half expected the crowd of tired, beleaguered cats to say nothing – but he certainly didn't expect their cries of agreement at Leopardstar's declaration. Clearly none of them had ever wanted to sit and wait for death, or to flee – they wanted to fight.

Leopardstar waited for the cheering to die down before going on: "StarClan willing, once the battle is won… BloodClan will be driven out, and the Clans can return to normal. The forest will belong to four Clans again – not one, not two, not three. Four!"

LionClan screamed in joy at the thought. Eyees sparkled with eagerness and homesickness. Claws dug into the earth.

"The time of Bluestar is over!" Leopardstar declared, the fur on her spine bristling. "Let the warrior code return to the forest!"

Leopardstar, her eyes blazing, leaped down from the Bonehill. She thrust her paws into the pile of bones and clawed out a pawful of prey bones from the structure. It trembled in response. Russetfur leaped down from the hill and joined her, pulling down her own chunk of the hill.

Soon enough all of LionClan was crowded around the Bonehill, digging away frantically at Bluestar's monument to her power. Bones scattered around their paws. Tinystar and his patrol took a few steps back to avoid being struck by the scattered remains. Tinystar spotted Stonepaw among the crowd, his eyes hard as ice as he determinedly pulled down his mother's symbol of control.

"We should go," Sandstorm meowed quietly.

"Yes," Tinystar breathed. He looked proudly at the LionClan cats as they reclaimed their freedom. "We can face BloodClan now, on as even of footing as we can manage. As four… we will be as strong as we can be."

He turned away from the jubilant LionClan cats and headed for the stepping-stones, the sounds of bones clattering to the earth following the patrol all the way.

 _We will fight for this forest together,_ Tinystar thought resolutely, leaping onto the first stepping-stone. _Or we will all die together._


	32. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

 _Dawn was far away when Tinystar_ opened his eyes. He knew he wasn't the only cat who couldn't get sleep – beside him Sandstorm was fidgeting, half-asleep herself. Tinystar licked her between her ears before getting up himself and heading out into the camp.

Cats were moving back and forth through the clearing, speaking in hushed tones and whispers. Graystripe was leading a hunting patrol in through the gorse tunnel, their mouths full of what little night-prey they could gather in the cold. Whitestorm met them for their report.

Tinystar stretched his limbs and looked up at the sky. They had time yet for a few minor preparations – but would this be the last dawn ThunderClan ever saw?

He forced it out of his mind. Nodding greetings to warriors as he passed, he grabbed a vole and took it to the shadow of the Highrock. He devoured the stringy fresh-kill quickly, barely even tasting it. All that mattered was what was to come when the sun peeked over the treetops.

Grass crunched beneath quiet paws. Tinystar pricked his ear at Brackenfur, acknowledging the medicine cat's presence. The golden-brown tom looked tired, as if he'd been up all night organizing herbs.

"Are you ready?" Tinystar asked, keeping his voice low out of habit. Not every cat was awake yet, after all.

"Yes," Brackenfur admitted. "Spent nearly all night putting together herb packets… but there aren't enough mouths between myself and Mosspaw to carry them all to Fourtrees."

Tinystar began cleaning his claws. "You can have all the apprentices," he decided. "But you can't keep Fernpaw – she needs to fight today."

Brackenfur grunted, his eyes flashing with worry. "I know," he meowed.

"I want you to keep back with the other medicine cats, too," Tinystar pointed out. His eye rested on Brackenfur's injured leg. "We'll be sending the injured to you."

The medicine cat shuffled his limp leg out of sight, as if eyes on it still upset him. Tinystar knew it was moreso the fact that Brackenfur didn't want to feel as if he were deadweight. "You taught me how to use my claws, Tinystar; I haven't forgotten."

Tinystar dipped his head. "I know; pray you don't have to use them, though."

Brackenfur flicked his tail in agreement. He got to his paws and limped across the clearing to the apprentice's den, and Tinystar watched him gather them up to help.

Tinystar stretched once more and stood. There wasn't much left to take care of – no way to delay the inevitable. He headed for the elder's den and ducked his head into the hollow log. The elders were curled up together for warmth, with Brightheart and Swiftfoot tucked with Dappletail and One-eye. It was warm and cozy inside thanks to all the cats.

Using a paw, Tinystar pushed gently on Speckletail's shoulder. The tabby queen jolted, hissing, her claws tearing at her nest until her eyes focused on Tinystar, not the enemy in her nightmares.

"Tinystar!" she breathed. "H-Has the battle started already?"

Tinystar shook his head. "No, not yet – but we'll be heading out soon," he soothed. "You know what you must do."

Speckletail's eyes hardened. "I know," she rasped. "I'll keep them safe, Tinystar. ThunderClan won't die today, not while I'm still alive."

Tinystar nodded at the queen, knowing that she was well aware of the grim responsibility on her shoulders. "Make for the river," he told her, "and try to head for Barley's farm. There will be enough food for you all there until someplace safer can be found."

Speckletail's eyes shimmered. "I-I shall," she breathed. The old queen turned to Brightheart and Swiftfoot, and gently woke them both. The two warriors woke quickly, clearly too tense to sleep themselves. Swiftfoot licked a scratch along his shoulders, looking sleepless.

"Go, darlings," Speckletail whispered. She touched her nose to Swiftfoot and rubbed her muzzle against her daughter's. "Teach those BloodClan beasts what it means to mess with ThunderClan."

"We will, mother," breathed Brightheart. Her eye shimmered with determination. Swiftfoot yawned beside her, stretching out his wickedly sharp claws.

The two warriors slipped out into the clearing, brushing past Tinystar on their way out. Tinystar breathed in their scents, not wanting to forget their bravery and strength. Speckletail watched them go as if they had been dragged from her, their claws tearing her pelt as they tried to cling to her. Tinystar felt his heart break for the proud old queen.

"Bring them home," Speckletail rasped, her voice clouded with emotion. "Please… bring my babies home."

Tinystar knew he shouldn't promise it but he did: "I will," he said. "All of them."

Speckletail's tail trembled for a long moment. Then she whispered, "StarClan be with you," before she curled back up into her nest.

Tinystar pulled his head out of the elder's den, swallowing the emotion in his throat. Now all of ThunderClan was awake, and the sky was just starting to lighten. If they were going to make it to Fourtrees, they would have to get moving soon.

Whitestorm had gathered all of ThunderClan to him – every warrior and apprentice and even Willowpelt, who was flexing her claws as if her kittens were under attack right now. Every cat capable of fighting was here, ready to lay down their lives for the last dawn they might ever see.

They all turned to look at him, and Tinystar felt so much pride he trembled to the bottoms of his paws. These cats were the fiercest creatures in the forest – they would win this battle or die trying.

Tinystar raised his chin. "No Clan leader has ever had a Clan like you," he meowed to them. "You are each and all loyal, true, and strong. I am proud to go into this battle with you, and together… together we can save the forest. Together, under StarClan, we can restore peace to the Clans."

It was not a speech like any Tinystar had given before – his tone was solemn and serious not encouraging and jubilant.

He believed every word, and he knew they did, too.

"We are ThunderClan," Sandstorm told him. She raised her tail. "ThunderClan!" she called. "ThunderClan!"

"ThunderClan!" roared the gathered cats. _"ThunderClan!"_

Tinystar swallowed. He raised his tail and ordered, "Let's move out!"

They followed him as he led the way through the gorse tunnel and out into the forest. Their paws pattered as one, like thunder between the trees, as they followed the familiar trails to Fourtrees – to their destiny.


	33. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

 _The stars were winking out of_ the sky as Tinystar and his battle party made it to the edge of the hollow that dipped down into Fourtrees. The entire forest was quiet, holding its breath for the coming of the dawn and the battle to decide which Clan came out as victor.

He looked down at the clearing. Cats were moving down below, but from the scent Tinystar knew it was WindClan, not BloodClan. The moorland cats must have set out long before moonset to make it here before ThunderClan. _No sign yet of LionClan, though,_ Tinystar thought grimly. That didn't mean they weren't coming – there was still time, and Leopardstar was a proud cat. Her word was her bond.

Tinystar hesitated, knowing that plunging down into the hollow would seal ThunderClan's fate. Never did he think as a tiny kittypet that he would be leading this many cats into battle, possibly to their deaths. Never did he think, curled up in his Twoleg nest, that he would be fighting his half-brother for control of the world beyond his backyard.

His whiskers twitched in the chilly air. Funny, he decided, how his journey into the woods had started at Rusty's encouragement – and now time had changed them both so much that the stars had arranged them for battle.

 _I will do what I must,_ Tinystar thought, resolved, _to save the Clans._

Beside him his Clanmates stirred. Dustpelt was kneading his paws impatiently. Cloudtail's tail was twitching. Swiftfoot looked like he was wired to spring on the first thing to make a move. Willowpelt and Frostfur stood together, their eyes flashing determinedly. Every cat of ThunderClan was ready to fight, ready to die, for the place where they had been born and raised… and every cat of ThunderClan was looking to him to lead them.

Tinystar blinked, feeling pride swell in his chest at the thought. Not every cat would return from this fight, but they would spend their last breaths fighting for their home, in the name of StarClan and ThunderClan.

Wordlessly, Tinystar raised his tail. He led the way down the slope and into the hollow clearing, his Clanmates' pawsteps a gentle rumbling in the quiet predawn forest.

Just like their previous meeting, ThunderClan and WindClan melded effortlessly. Willowpelt and Frostfur met with Morningflower, and all three queens immediately began discussing defensive strategies. Dustpelt, Mousefur, Longtail, and Cinderpelt met with Mudclaw, Webfoot, and Tornear, greeting one another like old friends. The apprentices clustered together, their eyes full of seriousness. Sandstorm and Graystripe met Onewhisker, greeting one another in low voices.

Tinystar touched noses with Tallstar. "Finally," rasped the old black-and-white tom. "I knew you were no coward, Tinystar, but my old heart still feared…"

"It's fine, Tallstar," Tinystar meowed back. "I would fear the same."

Together they sat, looking out at their mingling Clans. Tinystar spotted Ravenpaw and Barley amidst the crowd and raised his tail in greeting before the two loners met up with Sandstorm, Graystripe, and Onewhisker.

"I had wondered to them if they might like to join the Clan, after the battle," Tallstar admitted, watching the barn cats. "But they refused."

"They're loners, through and through," Tinystar agreed. "Even Ravenpaw."

Tallstar nodded his head in quiet agreement.

The sky was pink when Leopardstar and Russetfur arrived. The two she-cats pushed through the undergrowth on the RiverClan side of the clearing, their heads and tails held high. Their warriors streamed around them, melding into the ThunderClan and WindClan group without complaint. Claws looked sharp and eyes shone with determination – not a single trace of fear-scent among them all. Like Tinystar and Tallstar, every member of LionClan that could lift their claws was here, and the clearing was packed.

Leopardstar and Russetfur met Tinystar and Tallstar in the middle of the clearing. Their warriors surrounded them, talking quietly among one another. A few broke off into sparring groups to practice their moves – Tinystar spotted Swiftfoot showing a move to Blackfoot and Leafwhisker of RiverClan – another cat, Robinwing of WindClan, shook her head and stepped in to correct something. There was a hardness in their eyes that Tinystar had never seen before.

The other leaders were oblivious. Tinystar shook it off – every cat was hardening themselves for battle.

"They'll be here any moment," Leopardstar meowed. Tinystar wondered if she slept at all the night before – her eyes looked sunken and tired. _She's had to deal with so much,_ Tinystar reasoned. _She will need time to recover when this is all over._ "We must come up with some sort of plan."

Tinystar nodded in agreement, only to blink in shock when he realized that the other two leaders – and Russetfur – were looking at _him_ , as if he had the answer they were seeking. Tinystar swallowed, taken aback.

"We, ah, should get the medicine cats somewhere safe," Tinystar offered. He flicked his tail at Brackenfur and the other medicine cats. When they approached, Tinystar ordered, "Hide yourselves in the outskirts, away from the fighting. Warriors will do their best to bring themselves to you if they get too hurt to fight."

Brackenfur nodded in agreement. Barkface commented, "We'll have to do some quick triage. Come on – there's a spot near WindClan's side that has a good supply of cobwebs that might last us through it."

The other medicine cats seemed in agreement, and Barkface led the way through the crowd. Mosspaw had just gotten to her paws before she was stopped by Mistypaw and Stonepaw – the siblings rubbed their muzzles together.

"Be careful," Stonepaw told his sister.

Mistypaw licked Mosspaw's muzzle. "You're a medicine cat – leave the fighting to us."

Mosspaw shook them off, her eyes soft with love. "I have claws, you know! I'll use them if I have to – and be careful yourselves! Come to us if you get hurt, don't put it off!"

Tinystar watched the patched she-cat push through the crowd and rejoin the other medicine cats. He swallowed, knowing that similar conversations between friends and families were happening right now. He tried not to see the worry in Stonepaw and Mistypaw's eyes. He had to focus.

"The battle is going to be chaos," Tinystar went on to the other leaders. He realized, awkwardly, that Leopardstar and Russetfur had been waiting impatiently for him to continue. Tallstar, on the other hand, was as calm as he could be, given the circumstances.

Tinystar's whiskers twitched. "I'm really not sure what we can do in terms of strategy," he admitted. "BloodClan obviously doesn't fight like proper Clan cats – it might be best if our cats fight in groups if they can. Getting overwhelmed might spell the end, especially if they're up against a cat with those dog-teeth-claws."

"StarClan is watching us," Tallstar breathed. "They'll see us through."

Leopardstar lashed her tail. "True, but their claws and teeth won't do anything to settle this matter," she grunted. " _We're_ the ones fighting today."

"The forest is ours," Russetfur growled. "It always has been, and always should be. We're going to kick these fox-hearts out of our territory and put everything back to normal."

Tinystar blinked at the three Clan leaders, the best of their respective Clans: Tallstar, who was WindClan's heart and soul; Leopardstar, who was RiverClan's pride and endurance; and Russetfur, who was ShadowClan's wit and wile. Tinystar didn't know if he was the strength and righteousness of ThunderClan, but he would do his best to uphold the ideal today.

"Dawn is here!" called a cat from the crowd.

Tinystar looked up at the sky and, surely enough, the sky was light and pale. The sun was just touching the treetops.

Onewhisker bristled. "Where are they?" he demanded.

Leafwhisker wondered, "Perhaps they chose not to come?"

Tinystar swallowed, training his eye on ShadowClan's side of the clearing. The RiverClan warrior was optimistic, but foolishly so, for the wind changed and brought with it BloodClan's terrible Twolegplace scent. Moments later the ferns crackled and parted, and Scorch led his rogue Clan into the clearing.

With a movement of his tail, Tinystar directed the forest Clans to one side as BloodClan flooded into the other half of the clearing. Tinystar had felt crowded with all four Clans clustered under Fourtrees, but this amount of cats was close to making him gag from his claustrophobia.

Scorch stepped forward, meeting the eyes of the leaders. His green eyes took in the fighting force of the Clans and he shook his head, sighing.

"So you really intend to fight?" he meowed. "Fools."

"We have no choice," Tinystar declared. He squared his shoulders, unsheathing his claws. Behind him the Clan cats shifted, growls and hisses rising from the crowd. "This forest is our home, and we will not leave it."

Scorch blinked. "So be it, Tinystar," he meowed quietly. "If you will not leave willingly, then we have no choice." The ginger tom raised his tail and screeched: _"Die!"_

The sun rose like fire over Fourtrees as BloodClan surged around Scorch – Tinystar's battle cry filled the clearing and all four Clans rose like a wave to meet them. When they clashed it was like thunder and lighting in the sky.

Blood and fur flew, and the cacophony of screeches and yowls were just the beginning.


	34. Chapter 32

**Not many chapters left to go guys! Holy heck I'm giddy and nervous at the same time to see what y'all think of the conclusion!**

* * *

 **Chapter 32**

 _The clearing was in chaos._

Tinystar had never seen a battle like this, with so many cats flinging themselves into the fray. Thickets of fighting cropped up instantly where BloodClan cats tried to gang up on the forest cats, and Tinystar lost sight of nearly everyone important to him in an instant.

He did not have the luxury of trying to find any of them, either – when Tinystar tried to leap at Scorch, hoping to end the fighting as quickly as possible, a BloodClan she-cat intercepted him, throwing him off course and onto his side.

Tinystar sucked in a quick breath, kicking out with his hind paws before the she-cat could collapse on top of him. His claws caught on her cheek, forcing her to step back. Tinystar got to his paws in a flash and lashed out again with one forepaw, catching his claws in her thick neck fur.

The she-cat lashed back, her claws grazing Tinystar's forehead. He sent a silent thanks to StarClan that not every BloodClan cat had those wicked dogs-teeth claws. He ducked under another blow and lunged, digging his teeth into one of his opponent's forelegs until she cried out and Tinystar tasted blood – he let her go limping away, her tail tucked between her legs.

Tinystar had no time to savor that victory, though – another cat careened into him from behind, their claws digging into his shoulders. They rolled together in the dying grass, tearing at one another with their claws and nearly getting trampled by other warriors who were in the way.

Sinking his claws in deep only made Tinystar's foe do the same. This one was relentless, their eyes crazed with bloodlust and a manic sort of joy at the battle. It took Tinystar ramming his skull against their chin to get them to release their hold. Tinystar got to his paws, his head ringing. He expected the other cat to flee – but they shook their head and lunged again, jaws open to catch Tinystar in the throat.

Tinystar's small size saved him – he ducked and twisted beneath his foe, thrusting his claws into their belly fur. He felt skin give way beneath him, and hot blood splattered on his pelt. The BloodClan cat fumbled on their paws, staggering until they flopped onto their side and breathed their last.

Swallowing, Tinystar got to his paws. He padded over to the dead cat and saw that the fight had not died in their eyes – they were still full of hatred, and their muzzle was curled to reveal their bloodstained teeth.

Sorrow and a sick feeling filled him. That move was one Bluestar had taught him long ago – meant to use his size to deliver surprising and devastating blows. Was she proud, wherever she was, at the irony? He'd hated learning these techniques as an apprentice because they flew in the face of everything a Clan cat stood for – but now he needed them to defend himself.

A screech cut off his thoughts. Across the clearing, Tinystar spotted Willowpelt struggling with a large-bodied ginger she-cat whose pelt was littered with scars. He rushed to support her, dodging and weaving around other pockets of fighting before leaping onto the ginger she-cat's back and clamping his jaws down on the back of her neck.

She bucked beneath him, and Tinystar had to fight to keep from snapping her spine. Willowpelt reared up on her hind legs and swatted the big she-cat with her claws, drawing blood on the ginger cat's muzzle. Tinystar released her and the dark ginger cat fled, hissing and spitting.

"Where's Frostfur?" Tinystar gasped at Willowpelt. She had been with the other forest queens when the battle had erupted. "Morningflower?"

Willowpelt's pale blue eyes were hopeless. "I don't know," she said breathlessly. "As soon as the fighting started we got separated!"

"Stay with me," Tinystar told her, "and be careful -"

From out of nowhere a dark shape slammed headfirst into Willowpelt, carrying the pale she-cat off her paws with a wail. Before Tinystar could react, Darkstripe had his mother pinned onto her back and began lashing his claws along her belly.

"You ruined my life!" he snarled with each strike. "You ruined _everything!"_

Willowpelt cried out helplessly, her eyes still filled with love for her son. Tinystar bunched his haunches and launched himself at Darkstripe, pushing the dark-pelted tabby off of his mother.

"You fox-heart!" he spat, digging his claws into the swirling tabby fur, "You were always destined to be a lowlife!"

"Kittypet filth!" Darkstripe screamed hoarsely, turning his single-minded rage onto Tinystar. "Why did Bluestar think the world of you? Why didn't she love _me?!"_

Free of her attacker, Willowpelt got to her paws and bolted. Tinystar raked his claws along Darkstripe's muzzle when he tried to wiggle free to chase her down. Darkstripe thrashed and slashed, violent and crazed, his muzzle frothing with blood and spit.

"How does it feel," Tinystar panted, "knowing that you've always been a failure?"

Darkstripe screeched, "This time I won't fail to kill you!"

"Now that would be a change!" Tinystar spat back, thrusting his paws into Darkstripe's eye. "But I've got nine lives on you!"

Darkstripe staggered, then lunged unexpectedly. He tackled Tinystar into the dirt and fixed his jaws around Tinystar's throat. "I'll kill you nine times then!" he snarled around Tinystar's fur and skin. He tightened his grip and Tinystar began to see stars. "So you can feel the pain I felt watching Bluestar die!"

"Get off of him!"

Darkstripe's weight lifted and Tinystar scrambled to his paws, coughing. Awareness crept back quickly, and through the spots dappling his vision Tinystar saw Graystripe and Darkstripe tussling in the grass. Willowpelt, exhausted, sagged onto her haunches, bleeding from her belly.

"Traitors!" Darkstripe wailed, raining blows down on Graystripe. "You both broke the warrior code! You both deserve to die!"

"We've _all_ broken the code!" Graystripe snarled back. "But _you're_ the one that could never let any of it go!"

"Faithless!" Darkstripe screeched, charging at Graystripe. "Disloyal!"

Graystripe slashed his claws through Darkstripe's throat. Blood sprayed across the clearing and Willowpelt choked on a sob as Darkstripe slumped to the earth.

"Taint…ed…" Darkstripe wheezed out his final word, his final breath. The light faded from his eyes and he was still.

Willowpelt's legs shook. "Oh my son," she whispered, "oh, my first-born kit…"

"It's not your fault he turned out this way," Graystripe rasped, his eyes full of sympathy when he looked at his mother. "He could never let anything go."

Tinystar was dimly aware of the battle raging around them. "Thank you, Graystripe."

Graystripe's amber eyes shone bleakly. "Any time, Tinystar," he meowed back. "I would never let anyone kill my best friend."

The gray warrior nudged his mother. "Come," he mewed, "let's get you to Brackenfur, before you bleed out."

Willowpelt agreed numbly, leaning against Graystripe as they padded into the outskirts. Tinystar covered them, knowing that two wounded cats limping away from the battle might be a tempting target for BloodClan.

When they had disappeared safely into the undergrowth, Tinystar plunged back into the fighting, ignoring his screaming muscles and the stinging of new wounds. He ignored Darkstripe's body – but he couldn't help but wonder if this was how the dark warrior had thought his life would end: alone, and for a cause that ultimately failed.

He reached Tawnypelt and Morningflower through the crowd – the two tortoiseshells were fighting with all their strength against three BloodClan toms twice their size. Tinystar helped them even the odds, pushing back their opponents until they fled, screeching, into the undergrowth.

Morningflower lunged to give chase, but Tawnypelt stopped her. "It won't bring Gorsepaw back if you die," the RiverClan queen murmured. "Let them go."

The WindClan she-cat shuddered. "I know," she responded.

Tinystar touched his nose to her ear and wished the queens luck before he moved on through the battle. So long as they stuck together, Tawnypelt and Morningflower would be all right.

Near them Silverstream was battling Jaggedtooth, one of Bluestar's followers that had fled to join BloodClan after her death. Tinystar bunched his muscles to help, and he felt Tawnypelt move to join him, but Jaggedtooth was pulled away by Russetfur and Blackfoot.

"Traitor!" Jaggedtooth spat at them.

"Traitor yourself," growled Blackfoot, slamming his big black paws into Jaggedtooth's skull. "Flee or die!"

Jaggedtooth chose to flee, his tail tucked between his legs. Shakily Silverstream thanked Blackfoot and Russetfur – but Tawnypelt, stiff, curled her lip. Tinystar knew the battle required his attention but he knew he would have to spring in to stop some cat before they attacked one another here – after all, Blackfoot had murdered Brambleclaw, Tawnypelt's brother, not long ago.

"There's no time for this," Russetfur hissed, stepping in front of Blackfoot. "BloodClan must be driven out before we can think about settling grievances."

"She's right," Tinystar murmured to Tawnypelt.

"I don't trust him," hissed the tortoiseshell queen, still glaring at Blackfoot. It seemed like Tawnypelt's glare was enough to unsettle Blackfoot.

Morningflower touched Tawnypelt's shoulder with her tail. "Killing him won't bring back Brambleclaw," she pointed out gently.

Tawnypelt twitched her whiskers. "I know," she decided, finally.

Tinystar was about to thank Tawnypelt for holding her claws back when a shriek from across the clearing caught his attention. He told the group to take care before putting his paws to earth and streaking across the clearing. Another shriek pierced the sound of battle.

 _That sounds like –_

A pale gray tabby WindClan she-cat was struggling near the outskirts of the clearing, right where the medicine cats were hiding. A massive, hulking black-and-white BloodClan tom, his collar studded with dog's claws and talons and splintered bones, slammed his paws down onto her spine.

Tinystar heard a snap as the pale she-cat crumpled beneath her foe.

"Runningbrook, no!" screeched Barkface. The medicine cat lunged, and it took Runningnose and Brackenfur to hold him back.

The BloodClan tom swung his head towards the medicine cats huddled in the bushes. Tinystar's heart pounded in his ears. Mudfur unsheathed his claws, arcing his spine and hissing as the BloodClan beast strode closer. Beside him Littlecloud spat at the big villain.

"Get away!" snarled Mudfur. "I haven't used my claws for seasons, but I'll die before I let you hurt anyone else!"

"Then die," snarled the BloodClan tom, "and know that Bone is the one who killed you!"

Bone lashed out and Mudfur stumbled back, eyes wide as a gray-and-white streak shot out from between his legs. Mosspaw hurtled herself into Bone's chest, digging her claws into him.

"Mosspaw!" screamed Brackenfur. "What are you doing?!"

"Get back into the bushes!" Mosspaw screeched back, clawing at Bone's shoulder. "Hurry!"

Bone was taken aback by the smaller cat's actions but for a moment – he shook her off easily, then lunged. "Kits like you should know their place!" he roared. "You want to fight with the big cats? Then we'll fight!"

Tinystar forced his paws to move but he was too late – Mosspaw had no training, and Bone was twice her size. They danced for but a moment before Bone caught her between his paws and sank his jaws into her throat.

Brackenfur screeched from the bushes – but another sound overtook it. Tinystar halted on his paws as the ground thundered beneath them. Suddenly, forcing their way through the crowd of fighting, screaming cats was every apprentice of the four forest Clans, led by Mistypaw and Stonepaw.

At the sight of their sister's body they let out a soundless screech of agony and, like a wave, they cascaded down upon Bone.

Whatever sound Bone made as he drowned in the pile of apprentices was muffled by their fur and their own cries of justice for Mosspaw. Tinystar thought he heard Bone scream – but it was cut off sharply and suddenly as both Stonepaw and Mistypaw plunged their claws into his throat.

The apprentices melted off of Bone, letting him stagger away before falling onto his side. Blood pooled beneath him, and he moved no more. His eyes, as the light in them died, were filled with shock and surprise.

Tinystar swallowed. He grasped Mosspaw's scruff in his jaws and dragged her into the bushes, while Barkface and Littlecloud took Runningbrook.

"Is she really dead?" breathed Mistypaw as she pushed through the bushes. Stonepaw followed her, his ice-blue eyes wavering. "She can't be dead, can she?"

Tinystar gently set Mosspaw down before Brackenfur. For a few tense moments, the golden-brown tom sniffed her and prodded her with his paws, his whiskers trembling. But Mosspaw did not stir, and Tinystar knew what the limp weight of death felt like in his jaws.

"She's gone," Brackenfur whispered. "She's…"

Mudfur touched his nose to Brackenfur's shoulder. "She did it to save us," he said. "StarClan welcomes her."

"This _can't_ have been her destiny," Brackenfur meowed, his voice rising and trembling. "It… it… it's not fair!" Weakly, he whispered, "It should have been _me."_

"There's nothing we can do now," Runningnose meowed. "We can mourn her later, Brackenfur – we have to retreat further in before-"

"We'll defend you," Mistypaw declared, her eyes hard as stone. "No BloodClan cat will get near you."

Stonepaw dug his claws into the earth. "They'll die before they do."

"Thank you, little ones," Mudfur meowed.

Tinystar touched his nose to Mosspaw's forehead. _ThunderClan will feel your loss, Mosspaw,_ he thought, his heart aching. _I failed to save you._

He swallowed and pushed his way through the undergrowth and out into the battle once again. His body screamed for him to stop, but he flung himself into the nearest battle, digging his claws so fiercely into his opponent that they begged to be let go.

 _So much death already,_ he thought, releasing the BloodClan cat before his temper had him finishing them off. He gazed around the clearing and spotted more than one body lying uselessly on the ground. Were they all dead? Were they all from the forest, or from BloodClan? Tinystar had no idea.

 _So many gone, and the battle is only beginning._

The Clans had to win, before there were no cats left to fight.


	35. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

 _It wasn't long before another opponent_ found Tinystar – claws raked down his side and he whirled to face his new foe, charged with determination despite the screaming of his muscles. He reared onto his hind paws and slapped the tall tom in the face before falling onto him and raking his shoulders.

The tom wiggled beneath Tinystar's belly and dug his teeth into one of Tinystar's hind legs. Grimacing, Tinystar had to let go before too much damage was done. Blood roared in his ears as the tom tried to grapple Tinystar by the shoulders in a maneuver that could easily cause a cat to black out.

Tinystar struggled, digging his hind claws into whatever part of his foe he could manage. Blood bubbled between his toes and the tom on top of him grunted in pain. Finally Tinystar could wiggle just enough to clamp his jaws down on one of the tom's forelegs, biting hard until he tasted fur and blood.

The tom screeched and Tinystar let go – the tom whirled and limped away, tail between his legs. Tinystar got to his paws and attempted to assess his new injuries – but he had no time. Another cat, a massive tabby, was barreling at him full-tilt, and Tinystar braced himself to meet yet another foe.

 _I won't die here!_ He thought, mustering all his strength. _I won't let anyone else die here!_

A black-and-white blur crashed into the oncoming tom before Tinystar had to face such force – Barley!

The soft barn tom wrestled with the big tabby. Claws flashed and bloody scratches soon lined both cats' bodies. Ravenpaw appeared like a shadow and bit down hard on the tabby's ear, making the BloodClan attacker cry out.

Barley scored his claws down the tabby's side before letting the cat go free. Ravenpaw spat and hissed after them, bristling to the ends of his fur – a warning that they shouldn't come back. The tabby disappeared into the throng quickly, eyes wide with shock at the ferocity of such soft-looking cats.

"That'll teach them!" snorted Ravenpaw.

Barley was panting. "It's… been a long time since I had to fight like this…"

Ravenpaw brushed his muzzle against Barley's. "I'm not leaving you," he promised quietly. The small tom's eyes caught on Tinystar. "Are you all right?"

"All thanks to you," Tinystar breathed. "That tabby might have blown me off my paws!"

"There's no time to rest," admitted Barley. The barn cat looked hard and determined. "The longer we hesitate in this battle, more of our friends will die."

Tinystar swallowed, picturing Mosspaw's death-stunned face. _You have no idea,_ he thought grimly. "Go where you're needed," he rasped. "Support any cat you can."

Barley and Ravenpaw both nodded before haring off into the fight. Ravenpaw screeched a warrior's cry as Tinystar watched him leap onto a shocked tortoiseshell rogue. Tinystar shook the ringing from his ears and steadied his paws, looking around for any cat who might need aid.

He quickly spotted a small ShadowClan apprentice - Rowanpaw, he thought – and wove through the battle to meet them. Two large BloodClan cats – both black-and-white toms almost identical but for their eyes – were harassing the poor young apprentice, who must have gotten separated from their mentor or the other apprentices somewhere in the middle of the fighting.

 _I might not be able to take them both,_ Tinystar thought, blood pounding in his ears, _but I have more lives to spare than that little cat – StarClan help me, I'm not going to watch another apprentice die today!_

He sprang onto the green-eyed patchy tom and raked his claws through his thick fur. The cat reared, hissing, trying to shake Tinystar off. Tinystar clung hard, digging all four paws worth of claws into the tom's spine. He was about to take a hunk of white fur in his jaws when he felt claws raking down his haunches. That moment of pain made him loosen his grip, and Tinystar was flung off of his opponent easily.

Tinystar landed hard on his back, gasping for air as spots danced before his eyes. His muscles didn't respond for a long moment – long enough for the green-eyed tom to plant his paws on Tinystar's side.

"Little pest!" he hissed. "I'll gut you like a fly!"

Tinystar swallowed a gulp of air and forced himself up, lashing out with a claw. He caught the tom in the eye, and the responding screech was more than satisfying. The green-eyed tom backed off, giving Tinystar time to get to his paws. Now he had both black-and-white toms' attention, though blood leaked from the green-eyed tom's eye.

"Rowanpaw, run!" he yowled.

The tiny ginger cat bristled, but bolted. Tinystar swallowed, bracing himself for another attack, eyes shifting to try and keep both black-and-white cats in his vision.

Why was there a third, suddenly, Tinystar wondered. Was he truly growing so dazed from battle?

But it was quickly made clear that the new cat was on his side – especially when, with sharp jabs of his paws, Swiftfoot managed to topple one of the black-and-white toms. Eyes burning with determination, Swiftfoot pinned his enemy, latching his jaws into his throat.

Tinystar felt fur brush up against him. Brightheart was there, suddenly, her eye narrowed at the green-eyed tom.

Hissing and bristling, the green-eyed tom spat, "What's this, a cripple? You'll be easy!"

"We'll see about that!" Brightheart hissed back. "Come at me, fox-breath!"

Tinystar watched as Brightheart remained steady and still as the squinting black-and-white tom began to circle her. Her tail and whiskers were twitching, and Tinystar realized that she was reading every movement that her foe made, even if she couldn't see him.

He was even more impressed when the black-and-white tom sprang at her from behind. Brightheart rolled onto her belly, quick as a snake, and, like a rabbit, flung the big cat away with her hind paws. The tom fell right into Swiftfoot's range, and, growling furiously, Swiftfoot raked him with his claws until he screeched.

Thoroughly trounced, both black-and-white BloodClan cats fled, screeching about vicious and horrible Clan cats.

Tinystar swallowed, looking at the two once-crippled warriors before him. "That was astounding!" he purred.

Swiftfoot shrugged. "We do what we can."

"Where's Cloudtail?" Tinystar asked.

"With Sandstorm," Brightheart replied. Tinystar must have looked worried, because she added: "They're okay – Dustpelt and Cinderpelt are with them too."

"Good," Tinystar breathed. He wanted to be by his mate's side but he had more lives than she did – though the thought of losing one of his lives filled him with a terror he could not describe. He was much more useful supporting those who needed it. "Look out for one another."

"Always do," Swiftfoot grunted. "For as long as we can."

The two bounded off through the battle together, pelts brushing. Tinystar swallowed and tried to get a read on the fighting, craning his neck to look over the mass of fur and claws to spot any cats he could recognize.

He spotted Sandstorm and Cloudtail fighting together, like Brightheart had promised – but Dustpelt was being dragged off the battlefield by Cinderpelt. Dustpelt's jaws were moving, likely in protest, but blood trickled after him. He wouldn't be in the fight for a while.

The more Tinystar looked, the more scenes like that he saw. Deadfoot, WindClan's deputy, was dragging himself to the medicine cats, blood pooling after him. A RiverClan cat was lying still on the ground, covered in dust and torn earth, unmoving. More and more Clan cats were retreating, and less BloodClan cats were sent screaming out of the clearing. More bodies littered the ground, and too few of them were BloodClan.

Tinystar swallowed against a lump in his throat. _This has to end,_ he thought. _Soon. Or there will be no one left to fight._

This battle had raged for so long, it felt, and the Clans had barely made a dent in BloodClan's forces. Tinystar dug his claws into the earth. He had to find Scorch – he had to end this. Barley had been right – these cats would fight and fight until they had nothing left to fight for. So long as Scorch lived, the Clans would lose this battle.

It was easy to spot Scorch now that the cats had thinned. The flame-colored tom was in the shadow of the Great Rock, battling with… with…

 _Whitestorm!_

Dread filled Tinystar. He surged to his paws and flung himself towards the Great Rock, terror filling his body. There was no way the old white warrior could kill Scorch – Whitestorm was a great warrior in his own right but he was old, he was _tired…_

Before Tinystar could reach them he saw Scorch's claws flash. A burst of red followed.

Whitestorm fell, limp, to the earth, redness staining his pure white pelt.

Tinystar skidded to a halt beside his deputy's body. _No, no, no!_ he thought, looking down at the old white warrior, who was gasping for air. Tinystar tried to stop the blood with his paws, emotion ringing in his ears until he wasn't quite sure he was in full control of his body anymore. Blood sucked at his paws, turning even his black fur red.

"You can't die!" Tinystar screeched, his mouth dry. All his time with Whitestorm was flashing through his eyes – the old white tom had been with him since the beginning, supporting and offering his advice. A world without him felt like it would spiral out of control – if Tinystar could only just stop the bleeding, the medicine cats could…

"No medicine… cat can… save me now," Whitestorm coughed.

Tinystar didn't know how much of his thoughts he was jabbering aloud. "We… we're going to lead ThunderClan together," Tinystar sobbed. _"I can't do it without you, Whitestorm!"_

Whitestorm's yellow eyes had a little clarity and wisdom left. He looked fondly up at Tinystar. "You can," he whispered. "ThunderClan will live on… and I will watch… you…"

Tinystar couldn't respond. He buried his muzzle into the white tom's fur, not caring about the blood, not caring about the battle raging all around him. It didn't matter right now – a piece of Tinystar's world was ending, and there was nothing he could do.

"Tigerstar…?" Whitestorm breathed, hope and love in his faint mew. "My love… is that you…?"

Whitestorm jerked twice, and then was still.

The sounds of the battle roared in Tinystar's ears. Slowly, he pulled his muzzle away from Whitestorm's body. With a red paw, he closed the old white tom's eyes.

"Go with StarClan," he murmured, trying not to choke on his words. "I will miss you, old friend."

"He fought well," a voice meowed through the din. "For an old-timer."

Tinystar went rigid. He turned his head to see Scorch standing paces away. The ginger tom's fur was speckled with blood. Whitestorm's blood. Other Clan cat's blood. His green eyes were level and emotionless as they looked on Whitestorm.

"An old cat like that shouldn't have been fighting," Scorch went on. "He held out longer than I thought."

Tinystar's only reply was a screech of rage.

Fury bubbled under Tinystar's fur. Fury like fire, fury and anger and hatred that he had always tried to stamp down. The temper that Bluestar had tried to nuture for her own gain was bursting forth, filling Tinystar with white-hot energy that burned to the ends of his claws. Any cat who saw him would say that they were looking at a totally different cat, something horrifying and filled to bursting with hatred, with ice-blue eyes narrowed to cold slits.

Scorch's whiskers twitched. "You were always quick to temper," he muttered.

Tinystar lunged at Scorch. Blood roared in his ears like an ancient cat, and he slammed into Scorch with what must have been the force of a cat thrice his size. Each strike was aimed for Scorch's throat or belly or face, anything vital that might end his life once and for all – but Scorch was dodging his blows easily.

"You were always sloppy when you were angry," Scorch grunted, dodging a blow aimed for his ear. "You got so single-minded! I'm sorry that the Clans didn't change that about you."

Scorch stunned Tinystar easily with a blow to the head. All of the energy and rage and fury suddenly fled him, and Tinystar was left shaking and exposed.

"I'm sorry I have to kill you, brother," Scorch mewed.

The blow came quick. Tinystar barely felt it. A slight tugging at his throat. Why did Scorch's paw come away so wet and red? Why was everything suddenly spinning, growing fuzzy and hard to see?

Tinystar looked down and saw blood beneath him. He was dimly aware that it was his own. He tried to move out of it – he tried to move anywhere, really – but his paw slipped in the puddle. With a splash, he landed on his side.

The impact blackened his vision. Tinystar tried to claw his way back to the light, tried to breathe – why was it so hard to breathe, suddenly? – but the light grew smaller and smaller no matter what he tried…

… and then there was nothing at all.


	36. Chapter 34

**Yes! Those two were meant to be a nod to Snake and Ice - I wanted to include some more notable BloodClan cats somehow lol.**

 **We've only got two more chapters guys! Holy cow!**

* * *

 **Chapter 34**

 _Tinystar opened his eyes._

He was shocked at the silence that greeted him, and how empty the clearing of Fourtrees was. Hadn't this place been filled with screaming, battling cats? Hadn't the earth been stained with blood, not lush and green? He pushed himself to his paws, trying to catch the last remnants of memory before they fluttered away.

 _Whitestorm, dead…_ he thought, _Scorch's claws…_

He swallowed reflexively.

"I'm… dead," he realized.

He looked up, seeing the moving stars above. He was in StarClan, then. He dug his claws into the earth. He'd never lost a life before – what happened now? How long until he returned? Tinystar lashed his tail impatiently. Cats were dying all around him!

"Send me back!" he called to the stars. Fury itched beneath his pelt. "Hurry!"

"Be still, Tinystar," soothed a voice. "You need time to heal."

Tinystar turned his head to see Tigerstar. The big starry tabby sat down on his haunches, his amber eyes gazing evenly down at Tinystar.

"We're _losing,_ Tigerstar," Tinystar breathed. "We don't have _time_ to wait!" His voice caught in his throat. "So many have died…"

Tigerstar's eyes softened. "I know," he rasped. "I'm sorry."

Tinystar fell onto his haunches, curling his tail comfortingly around his paws. "I… I can't save them, Tigerstar," he whispered. The fury in his pelt ebbed, replaced with cold fear. "I'm not strong enough. Is there really nothing StarClan can do?"

Warm breath touched Tinystar's ear. Tigerstar's voice was close, and Tinystar knew his nose was touching him. "Faith is strength," Tigerstar murmured gently, "and we have done all we can."

Tinystar frowned, pulling away from his former leader.

Tigerstar blinked sympathetically. He raised his great head and meowed, "Tinystar – your time has come. You posses a heart strong enough to save the Clans, stronger than any Clan cat has ever had. Cats like Darkstripe and Bluestar thought they they were true Clan cats… but they were the farthest things from it."

The big tom took a step back, raising his tail. Starlight coalesced around him, forming familiar shapes. Every cat that had given a life to Tinystar appeared around Tigerstar, each looking down at him with confidence in their eyes.

"StarClan always fights beside the Clans, Tinystar," Tigerstar announced, unsheathing his long, hooked claws. "There are five Clans in this forest – not four."

Tinystar's eyes widened in shock – but before he could speak again the world flashed white. He closed his eyes against the brightness, and felt a pulling on his pelt. He resisted instinctively, digging his claws into the earth below him – but it did no good. Eventually he let himself go, spiraling into the nothingness.

* * *

Tinystar opened his eyes.

The battle raged all around him, deafening screams filling his ears. The scent of blood and fear washed over him like a wave of river water, threatening to gag him. Tinystar shook his head of the sensations and pushed himself to his paws, feeling none of the weariness that had dogged him before. His wounds had healed, his strength had returned.

He was alive again.

Tinystar wasted no time. He spotted Scorch through the battle quickly – the ginger tom was fighting Onewhisker atop the Great Rock. The brown tom was doing his best, but Scorch was easily outmaneuvering even the slinky WindClan cat.

"Scorch!" roared Tinystar. He pushed his way through the fighting cats. _"Brother!"_

Scorch slapped Onewhisker off of the Great Rock before turning to face him. Tinystar missed Onewhisker landing in a heap, alive, at the foot of the stone – Scorch's expression of shock and thunder was too good to ignore.

Bristling, the ginger tom hissed, "I _killed_ you!"

Tinystar ascended the Great Rock. "You took but one of my lives," he growled. Fury had filled him before – but now there was nothing but cold determination. His temper would not get the better of him this time. "I am a leader of ThunderClan, blessed with nine lives by StarClan – can you say the same?"

Scorch flattened his ears. "I've no need for spirits and superstition," he spat. "I am strong enough on my own."

"Then that will be your downfall!" Tinystar declared.

He lunged at Scorch, feeling the stone cold beneath his paws. He felt pelts brushing against his own, and with quick glances he realized he could see the starry outlines of his ancestors – the cats that had given him his nine lives – running beside him.

Lionheart growled like a roar, filling Tinystar with courage. Spottedleaf's eyes were cold, but her body was warm with compassion, even in battle. Runningwind ran with ease, almost teasing Tinystar to move faster with twitching whiskers. Thornpaw's strong muscles and sure footing brought old lessons back to Tinystar's mind. Brindleface's claws and teeth were bared, her eyes blazing with maternal fury. Icekit made his way with sure paws, never losing step. Yellowfang hulked beside him, her bristling tail over Tinystar's spine, as if her touch was soothing his wild emotions. Redtail's mouth was open in a screech of justice and finally Tigerstar raced ahead, his faith and strength an unbreakable bulwark.

Tinystar knew that this was it.

They met at the peak of the Great Rock, clashing with claws out and tails bushed where leaders stood for peaceful Gatherings every full moon. Both kept their footing, neither wanting to topple off the edge and lose their breath for even a moment.

Tinystar raked his claws over Scorch's ear. Scorch lunged for his throat but his teeth met Tinystar's narrow shoulder instead. Tinystar rolled to dislodge him, risking a fall. Scorch took advantage, trying to pin Tinystar down and rake his claws over his sensitive belly fur.

"I will kill you nine times if I have to," hissed Scorch, his green eyes burning as his claws dug into Tinystar's belly fur. "This forest belongs to BloodClan!"

Tinystar let himself go limp under Scorch's attack. "This forest has always belonged to the five Clans, brother," he retorted. "And it always will."

He felt Scorch's claws break skin, and Tinystar immediately flung up his hind paws. He caught Scorch underneath his ribcage and, using all his strength, flung the ginger tom off of him – and off of the Great Rock entirely.

Tinystar whipped himself to his paws and saw Scorch land, stunned, on the earth below. Regret filled Tinystar. _I am sorry, brother,_ he thought. _What could we have been, if we'd gone to the forest together? Who would you be if the Clans had taken you in, instead of rejecting you?_

He plunged down the side of the Great Rock, landing squarely on Scorch before the larger tom could catch his breath. Tinystar felt something in Scroch give way beneath him – there was no time to figure out what. Tinystar sank his teeth into the soft fur around Scorch's throat and bit as hard as he could, until blood filled his mouth.

Scorch struggled, kicking and clawing – but the struggles grew weaker and weaker. Tinystar let go of him, laying his tail over his brother's dying body.

"Could… could it… have been..." Scorch was choking on his own blood, his pupils blown wide and wild as he searched for something to look to, "different?"

Any rage Tinystar had felt towards his half-brother melted into sorrow. He touched his nose to Scorch's ear and murmured, "I wish with all my heart that it was. You would have been a noble warrior, Rusty."

Scorch jerked once, then lay still.

Tinystar lifted his head. He should have screeched victory – he should have plunged himself back into the battle without a care; but a hollowness filled him now. With a paw he closed Scorch's eyes to the world.

A BloodClan cat charged towards him, thinking him an easy foe. It took them a moment to register the blood covering Tinystar's muzzle and throat, and the source… their leader, dead on the ground in a pool of blood that stained his fire-colored fur red.

The BloodClan cat skidded to a halt, eyes impossibly wide in shock. They raised their muzzle and wailed: _"Scorch is dead!"_

Their screech hung over the battlefield until the words registered firmly in every cat's ear. The BloodClan cats turned to look at their leader's body as one, and as one they got to their paws and fled, screeching. Clan cats chased them, getting in their last blows before the BloodClan cats blundered into the undergrowth.

Cheers rose from the Clan cats in the clearing. Tinystar spat his brother's blood onto the earth, his mouth filled with the taste. He did not feel like he should join them.

The battle was over.

The Clans had won.


	37. Chapter 35

**All that remains now is the epilogue!**

* * *

 **Chapter 35**

 _Silence descended upon the clearing as_ the battle wound to a close. With BloodClan gone, Fourtrees felt almost empty – it still stank of blood and gore and strangers, and the grass was soaked to the earth in several spots. Bodies littered the ground, now even more visible than before. Tinystar tried to count how many were Clan and how many were BloodClan – he couldn't. For some it was simply too hard to tell.

He couldn't bring himself to move from where he stood, with Scorch's body at his paws. Looking down at his half-brother, Tinystar almost thought all the menace and hate had left the ginger tom. Now he looked like a soft kittypet again, and part of Tinystar wondered if he'd wake and want to take Tinystar on an adventure along the fences.

But that would never happen again.

"Clans!" cried a sharp voice. Tinystar flicked his ear. Leopardstar was padding through the clearing, her body covered in fresh, bleeding scratches. "Count the dead! Bring the wounded to your medicine cats!"

Tinystar swallowed. He got to his paws and raised his voice: "ThunderClan, to me!"

Within moments he was surrounded by his Clanmates. He tallied them as quickly as he could – every cat was present, though some were limping badly. Only Mosspaw and Whitestorm had been lost. He swallowed a lump in his throat. _It could have been much worse,_ he thought, locking eyes with Sandstorm, whose eyes glittered with sorrow and tiredness. _It could have been much, much worse._

"We lost Swallowfeather," said Leopardstar in a clipped voice. Tinystar turned to see the other Clans gathering with their leaders near the center of the clearing, just a few paces away from him. Several RiverClan cats bowed their heads. "But that seems to be all."

Tallstar's steady voice sounded from Tinystar's other side. "We will mourn Runningbrook and Deadfoot," he rasped. "They were both great warriors."

Tinystar's heart ached. So he was not the only cat to lose a deputy today. Who among the survivors would take Deadfoot's place in WindClan, he wondered? He spotted Barkface tending to Morningflower, who seemed the worst off in WindClan, and his heart went out to her and the whole of her Clan.

Another glance showed Russetfur gathering ShadowClan. The Clan was pitifully small compared to the others, and Russetfur was counting with a tail twitching in frustration. "We're all here," she grunted. "All the loyal ones, anyway."

 _How many of ShadowClan went to BloodClan before the battle?_ Tinystar wondered. Glancing at the bodies scattered in the clearing, he thought, _how many of them are dead?_

"Tinystar?" Sandstorm's soft voice mewed, "Are you all right?"

Tinystar swallowed again. He looked into his mate's eyes and, while he was overjoyed that she had made it out alive, sorrow still pierced his heart. "I will be," he whispered back. He didn't look down at Scorch's body. "I just wish things had been different."

A cluster of shapes caught his eye, near the edge of the clearing. Cats were beginning to pull the Clan bodies together to take back to their camps for mourning and burial. Tinystar saw Mistypaw, Stonepaw, and Oakheart surrounding a small gray-and-white shape. Mosspaw.

 _She should have lived,_ Tinystar thought. _So many things should be different._

"Clans of the forest!"

Tinystar lifted his head. Leopardstar was standing atop the Great Rock, her bloodstained chin high and her eyes burning down below.

"With the defeat of BloodClan, I hereby decree that LionClan and TigerClan are officially dissolved," she yowled. "Bluestar is dead – _four_ Clans rule this forest once more."

Cats cheered all over the clearing. Their voices were weak with pain, but their emotion was clear. Tinystar did not have the strength to lift his voice in agreement, though he knew for certain that four Clans in the forest were much better than two, or one.

Leopardstar leaped down from the Great Rock and padded over to the RiverClan group, singling out Tawnypelt, who had been sitting near the outskirts. The two dipped their heads in conversation.

Before Tinystar could wonder what they were talking about, Tinystar felt something nudge his shoulder. Graystripe stood before him suddenly, with Silverstream at his side. Both bore fresh wounds, though Graystripe's longer fur hid his well.

"What is it?" Tinystar wondered.

Silverstream and Graystripe exchanged a glance – and then Silverstream dipped her head and meowed, "I wish to join ThunderClan."

Tinystar felt a tiny flicker of shock – but not true surprise. "You will be welcome with us, Silverstream – if that is really what you wish," he told her.

"You're really joining ThunderClan, Silverstream?" Tawnypelt's voice caught Tinystar off guard. The tortoiseshell she-cat's eyes were wide, her tail-tip flicking back and forth. "Are you sure?"

Silverstream's eyes darkened. "RiverClan is not the same Clan I once knew," she admitted. "I do not trust in its leader any longer. Do you, after what's happened?"

Tawnypelt's ear flicked. "Leopardstar offered me a position as her deputy," she answered quietly. "I accepted."

"Even after what they did to Brambleclaw?" Graystripe's mew was shocked.

Tawnypelt nodded. "I know it's what Brambleclaw would have wanted, anyway. Leopardstar and I have a lot of work to do and I want to do what's best for RiverClan. I might be half ThunderClan, but… RiverClan has always been my home. Always will be."

Tinystar started to feel a bit like an unwelcome addition to a patrol when Featherpaw and Stormpaw joined the discussion. The young cats were bloodied, their claws tangled with cat fur. Boldly, they lifted their chins in unison.

"We want to stay in RiverClan, too," Stormpaw announced.

"It's where we… we belong," Featherpaw agreed.

Graystripe and Silverstream exchanged a shocked glance. Tinystar couldn't take it anymore and he excused himself quietly – this was clearly a family matter, and Tinystar knew he couldn't be involved anymore.

His paws took him to Russetfur and the ShadowClan cats. The ginger she-cat was standing with Blackfoot, who dwarfed her by a long whiskerlength in size – yet Russetfur was the one with her head raised proudly as she looked out at her cats.

"You will lead ShadowClan, then?" Tinystar surmised.

Russetfur nodded. "I was Bluestar's deputy," she meowed. "Though she committed many crimes… I was appointed under the warrior code."

Tinystar flicked an ear. "The forest will heal from the crimes she committed – but cats might not. Are you sure?"

Russetfur lashed her tail. "I will lead ShadowClan with pride!" she hissed. Beside her, Blackfoot bristled. "Do you really think I'd do anything else?"

"Of course not," Tinystar soothed. "Who will be your deputy?"

Russetfur dipped her head to Blackfoot.

Tinystar frowned. He had witnessed the black-and-white warrior murder Brambleclaw in cold blood – who knew what other crimes he had committed?

His expression must have betrayed his thoughts. Blackfoot narrowed his eyes and growled, "I will atone for what I've done by serving ShadowClan 'till my last breath."

"See that you do," Tinystar meowed. Temper edged his mew, but he bit it back before it became a blaze out of his control. "The whole forest will be watching for this new ShadowClan's merits."

He turned away. This, too, was no longer his business. Russetfur called her Clan together, and ShadowClan began to leave. Tinystar spotted Stonepaw saying one last good-bye to Mistypaw and Oakheart before moving away to join them, falling in step with Russetfur, his mentor.

The sun slid across the sky as Tinystar joined back up with ThunderClan in the shadow of the Great Rock. RiverClan left next – cats called good-byes, but no voice was louder than Silverstream or Graystripe, who threw out heartfelt farewells to their kits and friends as they disappeared into the ferns.

"Will fish be on the fresh-kill pile now?" Mousefur wondered to Longtail nearby, glancing at Silverstream.

The silvery she-cat's ear twitched – she had heard. "Fish never belonged to any one Clan, you know," she purred. "I'd be happy to teach you if you were keen to learn."

Mousefur's eyes widened, and she looked as if she might rebuke her new Clanmate – but instead her whiskers twitched and she purred. "I always did like you, Silverstream."

Tallstar approached Tinystar, all of WindClan gathered behind him. Tinystar spotted weak WindClan cats supporting the bodies of Deadfoot and Runningbrook, and Tinystar's heart panged again with sorrow.

"We must go," Tallstar meowed gently.

"I know," Tinystar agreed. "Thank you for everything, Tallstar."

Tallstar touched his nose to Tinystar's. The old tom breathed in Tinystar's scent, and Tinystar wondered if he was looking for hints of his old love, Jake, in Tinystar's scent.

"When you came to the forest, it was in untold turmoil," Tallstar murmured, pulling his muzzle away. His eyes glittered with care and love, like a father looking down on a long-lost kit. "Now, because of you, peace might truly be possible."

Tallstar stepped away and raised his tail. Like a gust of wind through the trees, WindClan bounded up the slope at the far side of the clearing and disappeared into the moorland. Now only ThunderClan remained in the bloodstained remains of the battlefield.

Tinystar looked out at his Clan. They were bouncing from paw to paw, talking about the battle in tones both mournful and excited. All of them seemed relieved that BloodClan was gone, no matter the losses they took.

Feeling a pain in his heart, Tinystar looked over at Whitestorm's body. Frostfur and Willowpelt had dragged the old white tom over to where ThunderClan had gathered, along with Mosspaw's body. Brackenfur was grooming their fur flat, taking extra care with his former apprentice. Seeing them so still… knowing the potential they could have had…

Tinystar pushed back his sorrow and raised his voice: "Cats of ThunderClan – we will mourn our losses properly when we return. Now, however, I say these words before the body of Whitestorm, so that his spirit may hear and approve my choice."

Eye widened. His Clanmates hadn't expected him to choose a new deputy so soon, it seemed. Tinystar passed his eyes over his Clan, and locked his gaze on one cat in particular.

"Oakheart," he meowed, "you will be ThunderClan's new deputy."

Oakheart blinked in surprise – but he bowed his head. "I will do my best to fill Whitestorm's pawsteps and serve the Clan," he decided.

"Fill no one's pawsteps," Tinystar told him, his voice rasping and tired. The effort of battle tugged at his paws, but there was still so much more yet to do. "You are a noble cat in your own right."

Oakheart blinked gratefully.

"Take ThunderClan home, Oakheart," Tinystar meowed. "That is your first duty as deputy. Take them home, and tell the kits and elders that the forest is safe."

Oakheart tipped his head questioningly, but said nothing other than calling, "ThunderClan, to me!"

Sandstorm hesitated to rally with the others around their new deputy. She paused beside Tinystar and looked at him with questioning green eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Why aren't you coming back with us?"

Tinystar blinked at her. He wanted to go back with them – wanted to curl up in his nest with her and sleep for a moon. But he looked down at Scorch's body, askance in the grass, and sighed.

"There's something I have to do."


	38. Epilogue

**Well, this is it guys - the very last chapter of the Tinystar's Beginning series! Holy cow!**

 **When I started this series back in 2014 I had no idea I'd be taking it this far - and I know that it shows in some of the entries. This series has followed me from my childhood home to moving in with my partner, and it's a journey I never imagined I'd finish. There's so much to say and so few ways to actually say it - this series is by far one of my longest works to date, dwarfed only by my work on FictionPress, and I love it just as much.**

 **Will the series be continuing? YES - for as long as I can manage it. Now that the whole first arc is done I don't know if I can keep up with the rest - I have plans to do all of TNP and a POT/OOTS combination arc to round the entire series out, but I do not know if I will have the energy to keep it up. This project took four whole years (off by just a day, wow) to complete and who knows how long the rest will be, or what will happen in my life along the way?**

 **The next entry in the series will be a novella of my own design - Russetstar's Resolve! After that will be TNP Midnight! When exactly these things will come out, I'm not sure yet. RR will likely come out in a few weeks, depending on some IRL things coming up.**

 **Thank you so much for reading - whether you're a new reader who binged the series long after it's been done or someone who kept up with it update-for-update. Your support has meant the world to me.**

 **Now, it's long past time to get to the Epilogue!**

 **\- Twilight**

* * *

 **Epilogue**

 _Red-orange light dazzled the sky_ over Twolegplace.

Tinystar's neck ached, along with every other part of him. Scorch's body was cold and heavy in his jaws, but they were almost there. Almost done. There was just this one last thing to do, and Tinystar knew the heaviness in his heart would be lifted, just for a moment.

He could not pull Scorch's body over the Twoleg fence he had in mind – but he found someplace just as good. The stump of a tree cut long in the past, where Tinystar knew Scorch had liked to sit what seemed like a lifetime ago. He put Scorch's body down a few pawsteps away. Tinystar wondered if he could smell Scorch's scent there still, or if it was because his mouth was full of his half-brother's ginger fur.

Tinystar began to dig.

Each scrape of earth brought a memory of Scorch to mind. Sitting on the fence and talking about life beyond the Twoleg walls. Chasing birds in the yard. Sharing Twoleg food, pressed close together. Walking along the fences of Twolegplace's mazelike territory, never even seeing half of what it had to offer before the sun went down.

The stories that Scorch had passed on from their father. Stories of brave wildcats out in the woods, all edged with a bitterness that Tinystar now knew came from Scorch's rejection by those very wildcats.

Tinystar dug harder.

Soon enough he had hollowed out a grave deep enough to keep Scorch safe from predators, and he hauled the body inside. It dropped with an unceremonious plop – a bright ginger spot in a dark, deep hole.

Alone, outside of Twolegplace, if a cat could cry then Tinystar would have. Sorrow bubbled out of him and made him wheeze as he curled his tail around his paws, as if it would stop his shoulders from shaking with tearless sobs.

He had killed his own brother… but things could change.

"Things _will_ change," Tinystar repeated, looking down at Scorch. "The Clans are my home… and I will never leave them. But you were right, brother. You were _right._ They are flawed… and I will do everything in my power to make them better… and make it so something like this _never_ happens again."

Scorch did not reply.

Tinystar pushed earth over his brother's body until the hole was filled. He patted down the dirt and sod and placed a marker there so that others would avoid the area. Then he looked up at the dark sky, where the first vestiges of Silverpelt were beginning to streak across the sky.

With the stars over his head, Tinystar headed into the forest – his home, where he had always belonged.


End file.
